Henry VIII

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  • Cromwell
    servant to Wolsey, later secretary to the Privy Council
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  • Abergavenny
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    woman to Katherine
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  • Brandon

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  • Gardiner
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  • Buckingham

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PROLOGUE

Enter Prologue.

PROLOGUE


I come no more to make you laugh. Things now
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
55We now present. Those that can pity here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
The subject will deserve it. Such as give
Their money out of hope they may believe
May here find truth too. Those that come to see
1010Only a show or two, and so agree
The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
I’ll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they
That come to hear a merry, bawdy play,
1515A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
Will be deceived. For, gentle hearers, know
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, besides forfeiting
2020Our own brains and the opinion that we bring
To make that only true we now intend,
Will leave us never an understanding friend.
Therefore, for goodness’ sake, and as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town,
2525Be sad, as we would make you. Think you see
The very persons of our noble story
As they were living. Think you see them great,
And followed with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends. Then, in a moment, see
3030How soon this mightiness meets misery.
And if you can be merry then, I’ll say
A man may weep upon his wedding day.

He exits.

ACT 1

Scene 1

Enter the Duke of Norfolk at one door; at the other, the
Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Abergavenny.

BUCKINGHAM


Good morrow, and well met. How have you done
Since last we saw in France?

NORFOLK

35I thank your Grace,
Healthful, and ever since a fresh admirer
5Of what I saw there.

BUCKINGHAM

An untimely ague
Stayed me a prisoner in my chamber when
40Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Andren.

NORFOLK

10’Twixt Guynes and Arde.
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback,
Beheld them when they lighted, how they clung
45In their embracement, as they grew together—
Which had they, what four throned ones could have
15weighed
Such a compounded one?

BUCKINGHAM

All the whole time
50I was my chamber’s prisoner.

NORFOLK

Then you lost
20The view of earthly glory. Men might say
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
55Became the next day’s master, till the last
Made former wonders its. Today the French,
25All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
Shone down the English, and tomorrow they
Made Britain India: every man that stood
60Showed like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt. The madams too,
30Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labor
Was to them as a painting. Now this masque
65Was cried incomparable; and th’ ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
35Equal in luster, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them: him in eye
Still him in praise; and being present both,
70’Twas said they saw but one, and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns—
40For so they phrase ’em—by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
Beyond thought’s compass, that former fabulous story,
75Being now seen possible enough, got credit
That was believed.

BUCKINGHAM

45O, you go far.

NORFOLK


As I belong to worship, and affect
In honor honesty, the tract of everything
80Would by a good discourser lose some life
Which action’s self was tongue to. All was royal;
50To the disposing of it naught rebelled.
Order gave each thing view. The office did
Distinctly his full function.

BUCKINGHAM

85Who did guide,
I mean who set the body and the limbs
55Of this great sport together, as you guess?

NORFOLK


One, certes, that promises no element
In such a business.

BUCKINGHAM

90I pray you who, my lord?

NORFOLK


All this was ordered by the good discretion
60Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.

BUCKINGHAM


The devil speed him! No man’s pie is freed
From his ambitious finger. What had he
95To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
That such a keech can with his very bulk
65Take up the rays o’ th’ beneficial sun
And keep it from the Earth.

NORFOLK

Surely, sir,
100There’s in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace
70Chalks successors their way, nor called upon
For high feats done to th’ crown, neither allied
To eminent assistants, but spiderlike,
105Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note
The force of his own merit makes his way—
75A gift that heaven gives for him which buys
A place next to the King.

ABERGAVENNY

I cannot tell
110What heaven hath given him—let some graver eye
Pierce into that—but I can see his pride
80Peep through each part of him. Whence has he that?
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard,
Or has given all before, and he begins
115A new hell in himself.

BUCKINGHAM

Why the devil,
85Upon this French going-out, took he upon him,
Without the privity o’ th’ King, t’ appoint
Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
120Of all the gentry, for the most part such
To whom as great a charge as little honor
90He meant to lay upon; and his own letter,
The honorable board of council out,
Must fetch him in he papers.

ABERGAVENNY

125I do know
Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
95By this so sickened their estates that never
They shall abound as formerly.

BUCKINGHAM

O, many
130Have broke their backs with laying manors on ’em
For this great journey. What did this vanity
100But minister communication of
A most poor issue?

NORFOLK

Grievingly I think
135The peace between the French and us not values
The cost that did conclude it.

BUCKINGHAM

105Every man,
After the hideous storm that followed, was
A thing inspired and, not consulting, broke
140Into a general prophecy: that this tempest,
Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
110The sudden breach on ’t.

NORFOLK

Which is budded out,
For France hath flawed the league and hath attached
145Our merchants’ goods at Bordeaux.

ABERGAVENNY

Is it therefore
115Th’ ambassador is silenced?

NORFOLK

Marry, is ’t.

ABERGAVENNY


A proper title of a peace, and purchased
150At a superfluous rate!

BUCKINGHAM

Why, all this business
120Our reverend cardinal carried.

NORFOLK

Like it your Grace,
The state takes notice of the private difference
155Betwixt you and the Cardinal. I advise you—
And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
125Honor and plenteous safety—that you read
The Cardinal’s malice and his potency
Together; to consider further that
160What his high hatred would effect wants not
A minister in his power. You know his nature,
130That he’s revengeful, and I know his sword
Hath a sharp edge; it’s long, and ’t may be said
It reaches far, and where ’twill not extend,
165Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel;
You’ll find it wholesome. Lo where comes that rock
135That I advise your shunning.

Enter Cardinal Wolsey, the purse borne before him,
certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers.
The Cardinal in his passage fixeth his eye on Buckingham,
and Buckingham on him, both full of disdain.

WOLSEY , aside to a Secretary


The Duke of Buckingham’s surveyor, ha?
Where’s his examination?

SECRETARY

170Here, so please you.

He hands Wolsey a paper.

WOLSEY


Is he in person ready?

SECRETARY

140Ay, please your Grace.

WOLSEY


Well, we shall then know more, and Buckingham
Shall lessen this big look.

Cardinal Wolsey and his train exit.

BUCKINGHAM


175This butcher’s cur is venomed-mouthed, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
145Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar’s book
Outworths a noble’s blood.

NORFOLK

What, are you chafed?
180Ask God for temp’rance. That’s th’ appliance only
Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM

150I read in ’s looks
Matter against me, and his eye reviled
Me as his abject object. At this instant
185He bores me with some trick. He’s gone to th’ King.
I’ll follow and outstare him.

NORFOLK

155Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What ’tis you go about. To climb steep hills
190Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like
A full hot horse who, being allowed his way,
160Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you; be to yourself
As you would to your friend.

BUCKINGHAM

195I’ll to the King,
And from a mouth of honor quite cry down
165This Ipswich fellow’s insolence, or proclaim
There’s difference in no persons.

NORFOLK

Be advised.
200Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself. We may outrun
170By violent swiftness that which we run at
And lose by overrunning. Know you not
The fire that mounts the liquor till ’t run o’er
205In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised.
I say again there is no English soul
175More stronger to direct you than yourself,
If with the sap of reason you would quench
Or but allay the fire of passion.

BUCKINGHAM

210Sir,
I am thankful to you, and I’ll go along
180By your prescription. But this top-proud fellow—
Whom from the flow of gall I name not, but
From sincere motions—by intelligence,
215And proofs as clear as founts in July when
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
185To be corrupt and treasonous.

NORFOLK

Say not “treasonous.”

BUCKINGHAM


To th’ King I’ll say ’t, and make my vouch as strong
220As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
Or wolf, or both—for he is equal rav’nous
190As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
As able to perform ’t, his mind and place
Infecting one another, yea reciprocally—
225Only to show his pomp as well in France
As here at home, suggests the King our master
195To this last costly treaty, th’ interview
That swallowed so much treasure and like a glass
Did break i’ th’ rinsing.

NORFOLK

230Faith, and so it did.

BUCKINGHAM


Pray give me favor, sir. This cunning cardinal
200The articles o’ th’ combination drew
As himself pleased; and they were ratified
As he cried “Thus let be,” to as much end
235As give a crutch to th’ dead. But our Count Cardinal
Has done this, and ’tis well, for worthy Wolsey,
205Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows—
Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
To th’ old dam treason: Charles the Emperor,
240Under pretense to see the Queen his aunt—
For ’twas indeed his color, but he came
210To whisper Wolsey—here makes visitation;
His fears were that the interview betwixt
England and France might through their amity
245Breed him some prejudice, for from this league
Peeped harms that menaced him; privily
215Deals with our cardinal and, as I trow—
Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor
Paid ere he promised, whereby his suit was granted
250Ere it was asked. But when the way was made
And paved with gold, the Emperor thus desired
220That he would please to alter the King’s course
And break the foresaid peace. Let the King know—
As soon he shall by me—that thus the Cardinal
255Does buy and sell his honor as he pleases
And for his own advantage.

NORFOLK

225I am sorry
To hear this of him, and could wish he were
Something mistaken in ’t.

BUCKINGHAM

260No, not a syllable.
I do pronounce him in that very shape
230He shall appear in proof.

Enter Brandon, a Sergeant-at-Arms before him, and two
or three of the Guard.

BRANDON


Your office, Sergeant: execute it.

SERGEANT , to Buckingham

Sir,
265My lord the Duke of Buckingham and Earl
Of Hertford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
235Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
Of our most sovereign king.

BUCKINGHAM , to Norfolk

Lo you, my lord,
270The net has fall’n upon me. I shall perish
Under device and practice.

BRANDON

240I am sorry
To see you ta’en from liberty, to look on
The business present. ’Tis his Highness’ pleasure
275You shall to th’ Tower.

BUCKINGHAM

It will help me nothing
245To plead mine innocence, for that dye is on me
Which makes my whit’st part black. The will of heaven
Be done in this and all things. I obey.
280O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well.

BRANDON


Nay, he must bear you company.—The King
250Is pleased you shall to th’ Tower, till you know
How he determines further.

ABERGAVENNY

As the Duke said,
285The will of heaven be done, and the King’s pleasure
By me obeyed.

BRANDON

255Here is a warrant from
The King t’ attach Lord Mountacute, and the bodies
Of the Duke’s confessor, John de la Car,
290One Gilbert Peck, his counselor—

BUCKINGHAM

So, so;
260These are the limbs o’ th’ plot. No more, I hope.

BRANDON


A monk o’ th’ Chartreux.

BUCKINGHAM

O, Michael Hopkins?

BRANDON

295He.

BUCKINGHAM


My surveyor is false. The o’ergreat cardinal
265Hath showed him gold. My life is spanned already.
I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on
300By dark’ning my clear sun. To Norfolk. My lord,
farewell.

They exit.

Scene 2

Cornets. Enter King Henry, leaning on the Cardinal’s
shoulder, with the Nobles, Sir Thomas Lovell, and
Attendants, including a Secretary of the Cardinal.
The Cardinal places himself under the King’s feet on
his right side.

KING , to Wolsey


My life itself, and the best heart of it,
Thanks you for this great care. I stood i’ th’ level
Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks
305To you that choked it.—Let be called before us
5That gentleman of Buckingham’s; in person
I’ll hear him his confessions justify,
And point by point the treasons of his master
He shall again relate.

A noise within crying “Room for the Queen!” Enter the
Queen Katherine, ushered by the Duke of Norfolk, and
the Duke of Suffolk. She kneels. The King riseth from
his state.

QUEEN KATHERINE


310Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor.

KING


10Arise, and take place by us.
He takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him.
Half your suit
Never name to us; you have half our power.
The other moiety ere you ask is given;
315Repeat your will, and take it.

QUEEN KATHERINE

15Thank your Majesty.
That you would love yourself, and in that love
Not unconsidered leave your honor nor
The dignity of your office, is the point
320Of my petition.

KING

20Lady mine, proceed.

QUEEN KATHERINE


I am solicited, not by a few,
And those of true condition, that your subjects
Are in great grievance. There have been commissions
325Sent down among ’em which hath flawed the heart
25Of all their loyalties, wherein, although
My good Lord Cardinal, they vent reproaches
Most bitterly on you as putter-on
Of these exactions, yet the King our master,
330Whose honor heaven shield from soil, even he
30escapes not
Language unmannerly—yea, such which breaks
The sides of loyalty and almost appears
In loud rebellion.

NORFOLK

335Not “almost appears”—
35It doth appear. For, upon these taxations,
The clothiers all, not able to maintain
The many to them longing, have put off
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
340Unfit for other life, compelled by hunger
40And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring th’ event to th’ teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

KING

Taxation?
345Wherein? And what taxation? My Lord Cardinal,
45You that are blamed for it alike with us,
Know you of this taxation?

WOLSEY

Please you, sir,
I know but of a single part in aught
350Pertains to th’ state, and front but in that file
50Where others tell steps with me.

QUEEN KATHERINE

No, my lord?
You know no more than others? But you frame
Things that are known alike, which are not wholesome
355To those which would not know them, and yet must
55Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions
Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
Most pestilent to th’ hearing, and to bear ’em
The back is sacrifice to th’ load. They say
360They are devised by you, or else you suffer
60Too hard an exclamation.

KING

Still exaction!
The nature of it? In what kind, let’s know,
Is this exaction?

QUEEN KATHERINE

365I am much too venturous
65In tempting of your patience, but am boldened
Under your promised pardon. The subjects’ grief
Comes through commissions which compels from
each
370The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
70Without delay, and the pretense for this
Is named your wars in France. This makes bold
mouths.
Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
375Allegiance in them. Their curses now
75Live where their prayers did; and it’s come to pass
This tractable obedience is a slave
To each incensèd will. I would your Highness
Would give it quick consideration, for
380There is no primer baseness.

KING

80By my life,
This is against our pleasure.

WOLSEY

And for me,
I have no further gone in this than by
385A single voice, and that not passed me but
85By learnèd approbation of the judges. If I am
Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know
My faculties nor person, yet will be
The chronicles of my doing, let me say
390’Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
90That virtue must go through. We must not stint
Our necessary actions in the fear
To cope malicious censurers, which ever,
As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
395That is new trimmed, but benefit no further
95Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
Not ours or not allowed; what worst, as oft,
Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
400For our best act. If we shall stand still
100In fear our motion will be mocked or carped at,
We should take root here where we sit,
Or sit state-statues only.

KING

Things done well,
405And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
105Things done without example, in their issue
Are to be feared. Have you a precedent
Of this commission? I believe, not any.
We must not rend our subjects from our laws
410And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
110A trembling contribution! Why, we take
From every tree lop, bark, and part o’ th’ timber,
And though we leave it with a root, thus hacked,
The air will drink the sap. To every county
415Where this is questioned send our letters with
115Free pardon to each man that has denied
The force of this commission. Pray look to ’t;
I put it to your care.

WOLSEY , aside to his Secretary

A word with you.
420Let there be letters writ to every shire
120Of the King’s grace and pardon. The grievèd commons
Hardly conceive of me. Let it be noised
That through our intercession this revokement
And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you
425Further in the proceeding.

Secretary exits.Enter Buckingham’s Surveyor.

QUEEN KATHERINE , to the King


125I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
Is run in your displeasure.

KING

It grieves many.
The gentleman is learnèd and a most rare speaker;
430To nature none more bound; his training such
130That he may furnish and instruct great teachers
And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see,
When these so noble benefits shall prove
Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
435They turn to vicious forms ten times more ugly
135Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
Who was enrolled ’mongst wonders, and when we
Almost with ravished list’ning could not find
His hour of speech a minute—he, my lady,
440Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
140That once were his, and is become as black
As if besmeared in hell. Sit by us. You shall hear—
This was his gentleman in trust—of him
Things to strike honor sad.—Bid him recount
445The fore-recited practices, whereof
145We cannot feel too little, hear too much.

WOLSEY


Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you
Most like a careful subject have collected
Out of the Duke of Buckingham.

KING

450Speak freely.

SURVEYOR


150First, it was usual with him—every day
It would infect his speech—that if the King
Should without issue die, he’ll carry it so
To make the scepter his. These very words
455I’ve heard him utter to his son-in-law,
155Lord Abergavenny, to whom by oath he menaced
Revenge upon the Cardinal.

WOLSEY

Please your Highness, note
This dangerous conception in this point:
460Not friended by his wish to your high person,
160His will is most malignant, and it stretches
Beyond you to your friends.

QUEEN KATHERINE

My learnèd Lord Cardinal,
Deliver all with charity.

KING , to Surveyor

465Speak on.
165How grounded he his title to the crown
Upon our fail? To this point hast thou heard him
At any time speak aught?

SURVEYOR

He was brought to this
470By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Henton.

KING


170What was that Henton?

SURVEYOR

Sir, a Chartreux friar,
His confessor, who fed him every minute
With words of sovereignty.

KING

475How know’st thou this?

SURVEYOR


175Not long before your Highness sped to France,
The Duke being at the Rose, within the parish
Saint Laurence Poultney, did of me demand
What was the speech among the Londoners
480Concerning the French journey. I replied
180Men fear the French would prove perfidious,
To the King’s danger. Presently the Duke
Said ’twas the fear indeed, and that he doubted
’Twould prove the verity of certain words
485Spoke by a holy monk “that oft,” says he,
185“Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
To hear from him a matter of some moment;
Whom after under the confession’s seal
490He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke
190My chaplain to no creature living but
To me should utter, with demure confidence
This pausingly ensued: “Neither the King, nor ’s heirs—
Tell you the Duke—shall prosper. Bid him strive
495To gain the love o’ th’ commonalty; the Duke
195Shall govern England.””

QUEEN KATHERINE

If I know you well,
You were the Duke’s surveyor, and lost your office
On the complaint o’ th’ tenants. Take good heed
500You charge not in your spleen a noble person
200And spoil your nobler soul. I say, take heed—
Yes, heartily beseech you.

KING

Let him on.—
Go forward.

SURVEYOR

505On my soul, I’ll speak but truth.
205I told my lord the Duke, by th’ devil’s illusions
The monk might be deceived, and that ’twas dangerous
For him to ruminate on this so far until
It forged him some design, which, being believed,
510It was much like to do. He answered “Tush,
210It can do me no damage,” adding further
That had the King in his last sickness failed,
The Cardinal’s and Sir Thomas Lovell’s heads
Should have gone off.

KING

515Ha! What, so rank? Ah ha!
215There’s mischief in this man! Canst thou say further?

SURVEYOR


I can, my liege.

KING

Proceed.

SURVEYOR

Being at Greenwich,
520After your Highness had reproved the Duke
220About Sir William Blumer—

KING


I remember of such a time, being my sworn servant,
The Duke retained him his. But on. What hence?

SURVEYOR


“If,” quoth he, “I for this had been committed,”
525As to the Tower, I thought, “I would have played
225The part my father meant to act upon
Th’ usurper Richard, who, being at Salisbury,
Made suit to come in ’s presence; which if granted,
As he made semblance of his duty, would
530Have put his knife into him.”

KING

230A giant traitor!

WOLSEY


Now, madam, may his Highness live in freedom
And this man out of prison?

QUEEN KATHERINE

God mend all.

KING , to Surveyor


535There’s something more would out of thee. What sayst?

SURVEYOR


235After “the Duke his father” with “the knife,”
He stretched him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on ’s breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath whose tenor
540Was, were he evil used, he would outgo
240His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

KING

There’s his period,
To sheathe his knife in us! He is attached.
545Call him to present trial. If he may
245Find mercy in the law, ’tis his; if none,
Let him not seek ’t of us. By day and night,
He’s traitor to th’ height!

They exit.

Scene 3

Enter Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sands.

CHAMBERLAIN


Is ’t possible the spells of France should juggle
550Men into such strange mysteries?

SANDS

New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous—
5Nay, let ’em be unmanly—yet are followed.

CHAMBERLAIN


As far as I see, all the good our English
555Have got by the late voyage is but merely
A fit or two o’ th’ face; but they are shrewd ones,
For when they hold ’em, you would swear directly
10Their very noses had been counselors
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.

SANDS


560They have all new legs and lame ones; one would
take it,
That never see ’em pace before, the spavin
15Or springhalt reigned among ’em.

CHAMBERLAIN

Death! My lord,
565Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to ’t,
That, sure, they’ve worn out Christendom.
Enter Sir Thomas Lovell.

How now?
20What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?

LOVELL

Faith, my lord,
570I hear of none but the new proclamation
That’s clapped upon the court gate.

CHAMBERLAIN

What is ’t for?

LOVELL


25The reformation of our traveled gallants
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.

CHAMBERLAIN


575I’m glad ’tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs
To think an English courtier may be wise
And never see the Louvre.

LOVELL

30They must either—
For so run the conditions—leave those remnants
580Of fool and feather that they got in France,
With all their honorable points of ignorance
Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks,
35Abusing better men than they can be
Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean
585The faith they have in tennis and tall stockings,
Short blistered breeches, and those types of travel,
And understand again like honest men,
40Or pack to their old playfellows. There, I take it,
They may cum privilegio “oui” away
590The lag end of their lewdness and be laughed at.

SANDS


’Tis time to give ’em physic, their diseases
Are grown so catching.

CHAMBERLAIN

45What a loss our ladies
Will have of these trim vanities!

LOVELL

595Ay, marry,
There will be woe indeed, lords. The sly whoresons
Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies.
50A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.

SANDS


The devil fiddle ’em! I am glad they are going,
600For sure there’s no converting of ’em. Now
An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong,
55And have an hour of hearing, and, by ’r Lady,
Held current music too.

CHAMBERLAIN

605Well said, Lord Sands.
Your colt’s tooth is not cast yet?

SANDS

No, my lord,
60Nor shall not while I have a stump.

CHAMBERLAIN

Sir Thomas,
610Whither were you a-going?

LOVELL

To the Cardinal’s.
Your Lordship is a guest too.

CHAMBERLAIN

65O, ’tis true.
This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
615To many lords and ladies. There will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I’ll assure you.

LOVELL


That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
70A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us.
His dews fall everywhere.

CHAMBERLAIN

620No doubt he’s noble;
He had a black mouth that said other of him.

SANDS


He may, my lord. ’Has wherewithal. In him,
75Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine.
Men of his way should be most liberal;
625They are set here for examples.

CHAMBERLAIN

True, they are so,
But few now give so great ones. My barge stays.
80Your Lordship shall along.—Come, good Sir Thomas,
We shall be late else, which I would not be,
630For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guilford
This night to be comptrollers.

SANDS

I am your Lordship’s.

They exit.

Scene 4

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the Cardinal, a
longer table for the guests. Then enter Anne Bullen and
divers other ladies and gentlemen as guests at one door;
at another door enter Sir Henry Guilford.

GUILFORD


Ladies, a general welcome from his Grace
Salutes you all. This night he dedicates
635To fair content and you. None here, he hopes,
In all this noble bevy has brought with her
5One care abroad. He would have all as merry
As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome
Can make good people.

Enter Lord Chamberlain, Lord Sands, and
Sir Thomas Lovell.

640O, my lord, you’re tardy!
The very thought of this fair company
10Clapped wings to me.

CHAMBERLAIN

You are young, Sir Harry Guilford.

SANDS


Sir Thomas Lovell, had the Cardinal
645But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these
Should find a running banquet, ere they rested,
15I think would better please ’em. By my life,
They are a sweet society of fair ones.

LOVELL


O, that your Lordship were but now confessor
650To one or two of these!

SANDS

I would I were.
20They should find easy penance.

LOVELL

Faith, how easy?

SANDS


As easy as a down bed would afford it.

CHAMBERLAIN


655Sweet ladies, will it please you sit?—Sir Harry,
Place you that side; I’ll take the charge of this.
The guests are seated.
25His Grace is ent’ring. Nay, you must not freeze;
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
My Lord Sands, you are one will keep ’em waking.
660Pray sit between these ladies.

SANDS

By my faith,
30And thank your Lordship.—By your leave, sweet ladies.
He sits between Anne Bullen and another lady.
If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

ANNE

665Was he mad, sir?

SANDS


O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too;
35But he would bite none. Just as I do now,
He would kiss you twenty with a breath.

He kisses Anne.

CHAMBERLAIN

Well said,
670my lord.
So, now you’re fairly seated, gentlemen,
40The penance lies on you if these fair ladies
Pass away frowning.

SANDS

For my little cure,
675Let me alone.

Hautboys. Enter Cardinal Wolsey, with Attendants and
Servants, and takes his state.

WOLSEY


You’re welcome, my fair guests. That noble lady
45Or gentleman that is not freely merry
Is not my friend. This to confirm my welcome,
And to you all good health.

He drinks to them.

SANDS

680Your Grace is noble.
Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks
50And save me so much talking.

WOLSEY

My Lord Sands,
I am beholding to you. Cheer your neighbors.—
685Ladies, you are not merry.—Gentlemen,
Whose fault is this?

SANDS

55The red wine first must rise
In their fair cheeks, my lord. Then we shall have ’em
Talk us to silence.

ANNE

690You are a merry gamester,
My Lord Sands.

SANDS

60Yes, if I make my play.
Here’s to your Ladyship, and pledge it, madam,
He drinks to her.
For ’tis to such a thing—

ANNE

695You cannot show me.

SANDS


I told your Grace they would talk anon.

Drum and Trumpet. Chambers discharged.

WOLSEY

65What’s that?

CHAMBERLAIN


Look out there, some of you.

Servants exit.

WOLSEY

What warlike voice,
700And to what end, is this?—Nay, ladies, fear not.
By all the laws of war you’re privileged.

Enter a Servant.

CHAMBERLAIN


70How now, what is ’t?

SERVANT

A noble troop of strangers,
For so they seem. They’ve left their barge and landed,
705And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

WOLSEY

75Good Lord Chamberlain,
Go, give ’em welcome—you can speak the French
tongue—
710And pray receive ’em nobly, and conduct ’em
Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
80Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
Lord Chamberlain exits, with Attendants.
All rise, and tables removed.
You have now a broken banquet, but we’ll mend it.
A good digestion to you all; and once more
715I shower a welcome on you. Welcome all!

Hautboys. Enter King and others as masquers, habited
like shepherds, ushered by the Lord Chamberlain.
They pass directly before the Cardinal and gracefully
salute him.

A noble company! What are their pleasures?

CHAMBERLAIN


85Because they speak no English, thus they prayed
To tell your Grace: that, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly
720This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
90But leave their flocks and, under your fair conduct,
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with ’em.

WOLSEY

725Say, Lord Chamberlain,
They have done my poor house grace, for which I
95pay ’em
A thousand thanks and pray ’em take their pleasures.

The masquers choose Ladies. The
King chooses Anne Bullen.

KING


The fairest hand I ever touched! O beauty,
730Till now I never knew thee.

Music, Dance.

WOLSEY


My lord!

CHAMBERLAIN

100Your Grace?

WOLSEY

Pray tell ’em thus much
from me:
735There should be one amongst ’em by his person
More worthy this place than myself, to whom,
105If I but knew him, with my love and duty
I would surrender it.

CHAMBERLAIN

I will, my lord.

Whisper with the masquers.

WOLSEY


740What say they?

CHAMBERLAIN

Such a one they all confess
110There is indeed, which they would have your Grace
Find out, and he will take it.

WOLSEY

Let me see, then.
He leaves his state.
745By all your good leaves, gentlemen.
He bows before the King.
Here I’ll make
115My royal choice.

KING , unmasking

You have found him, cardinal.
You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord.
750You are a churchman, or I’ll tell you, cardinal,
I should judge now unhappily.

WOLSEY

120I am glad
Your Grace is grown so pleasant.

KING

My Lord Chamberlain,
755Prithee come hither. What fair lady’s that?

CHAMBERLAIN


An ’t please your Grace, Sir Thomas Bullen’s daughter,
125The Viscount Rochford, one of her Highness’ women.

KING


By heaven, she is a dainty one.—Sweetheart,
I were unmannerly to take you out
760And not to kiss you. He kisses Anne. A health,
gentlemen!
130Let it go round.

He drinks a toast.

WOLSEY


Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
I’ th’ privy chamber?

LOVELL

765Yes, my lord.

WOLSEY

Your Grace,
135I fear, with dancing is a little heated.

KING


I fear, too much.

WOLSEY

There’s fresher air, my lord,
770In the next chamber.

KING


Lead in your ladies ev’ry one.—Sweet partner,
140I must not yet forsake you.—Let’s be merry,
Good my Lord Cardinal. I have half a dozen healths
To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
775To lead ’em once again, and then let’s dream
Who’s best in favor. Let the music knock it.

They exit, with Trumpets.

ACT 2

Scene 1

Enter two Gentlemen at several doors.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


Whither away so fast?

SECOND GENTLEMAN

O, God save you.
E’en to the Hall to hear what shall become
780Of the great Duke of Buckingham.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

5I’ll save you
That labor, sir. All’s now done but the ceremony
Of bringing back the prisoner.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Were you there?

FIRST GENTLEMAN


785Yes, indeed was I.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

10Pray speak what has happened.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


You may guess quickly what.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Is he found guilty?

FIRST GENTLEMAN


Yes, truly, is he, and condemned upon ’t.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


790I am sorry for ’t.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

15So are a number more.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

But pray, how passed it?

FIRST GENTLEMAN


I’ll tell you in a little. The great duke
Came to the bar, where to his accusations
795He pleaded still not guilty and alleged
20Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The King’s attorney on the contrary
Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions
Of divers witnesses, which the Duke desired
800To him brought viva voce to his face;
25At which appeared against him his surveyor,
Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor, and John Car,
Confessor to him, with that devil monk,
Hopkins, that made this mischief.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

805That was he
30That fed him with his prophecies?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

The same.
All these accused him strongly, which he fain
Would have flung from him, but indeed he could not.
810And so his peers upon this evidence
35Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
He spoke, and learnèdly, for life, but all
Was either pitied in him or forgotten.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


After all this, how did he bear himself?

FIRST GENTLEMAN


815When he was brought again to th’ bar to hear
40His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirred
With such an agony he sweat extremely
And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty.
But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
820In all the rest showed a most noble patience.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


45I do not think he fears death.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Sure he does not;
He never was so womanish. The cause
He may a little grieve at.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

825Certainly
50The Cardinal is the end of this.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

’Tis likely,
By all conjectures; first, Kildare’s attainder,
Then Deputy of Ireland, who, removed,
830Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
55Lest he should help his father.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

That trick of state
Was a deep envious one.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

At his return
835No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
60And generally: whoever the King favors,
The Card’nal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

All the commons
840Hate him perniciously and, o’ my conscience,
65Wish him ten fathom deep. This duke as much
They love and dote on, call him bounteous
Buckingham,
The mirror of all courtesy.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

845Stay there, sir,
70And see the noble ruined man you speak of.

Enter Buckingham from his arraignment, Tipstaves before
him, the ax with the edge towards him, Halberds on each
side, accompanied with Sir Thomas Lovell, Sir Nicholas
Vaux, Sir Walter Sands, and Common People, etc.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


Let’s stand close and behold him.

BUCKINGHAM

All good people,
You that thus far have come to pity me,
850Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
75I have this day received a traitor’s judgment,
And by that name must die. Yet heaven bear witness,
And if I have a conscience, let it sink me
Even as the ax falls, if I be not faithful!
855The law I bear no malice for my death;
80’T has done, upon the premises, but justice.
But those that sought it I could wish more Christian.
Be what they will, I heartily forgive ’em.
Yet let ’em look they glory not in mischief,
860Nor build their evils on the graves of great men,
85For then my guiltless blood must cry against ’em.
For further life in this world I ne’er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the King have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me
865And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
90His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying,
Go with me like good angels to my end,
And as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
870Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
95And lift my soul to heaven.—Lead on, a’ God’s name.

LOVELL


I do beseech your Grace, for charity,
If ever any malice in your heart
Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.

BUCKINGHAM


875Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
100As I would be forgiven. I forgive all.
There cannot be those numberless offenses
’Gainst me that I cannot take peace with. No black
envy
880Shall make my grave. Commend me to his Grace.
105And if he speak of Buckingham, pray tell him
You met him half in heaven. My vows and prayers
Yet are the King’s and, till my soul forsake,
Shall cry for blessings on him. May he live
885Longer than I have time to tell his years.
110Ever beloved and loving may his rule be;
And when old Time shall lead him to his end,
Goodness and he fill up one monument!

LOVELL


To th’ waterside I must conduct your Grace,
890Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
115Who undertakes you to your end.

VAUX , calling as to Officers offstage

Prepare there!
The Duke is coming. See the barge be ready,
And fit it with such furniture as suits
895The greatness of his person.

BUCKINGHAM

120Nay, Sir Nicholas,
Let it alone. My state now will but mock me.
When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable
And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun.
900Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
125That never knew what truth meant. I now seal it,
And with that blood will make ’em one day groan for ’t.
My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first raised head against usurping Richard,
905Flying for succor to his servant Banister,
130Being distressed, was by that wretch betrayed,
And, without trial, fell. God’s peace be with him.
Henry the Seventh, succeeding, truly pitying
My father’s loss, like a most royal prince
910Restored me to my honors and out of ruins
135Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
Henry the Eighth, life, honor, name, and all
That made me happy at one stroke has taken
Forever from the world. I had my trial,
915And must needs say a noble one, which makes me
140A little happier than my wretched father.
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most—
A most unnatural and faithless service.
920Heaven has an end in all; yet, you that hear me,
145This from a dying man receive as certain:
Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
925The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
150Like water from you, never found again
But where they mean to sink you. All good people,
Pray for me. I must now forsake you. The last hour
Of my long weary life is come upon me.
930Farewell. And when you would say something that
155is sad,
Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me.

Duke and train exit.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


O, this is full of pity, sir! It calls,
I fear, too many curses on their heads
935That were the authors.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

160If the Duke be guiltless,
’Tis full of woe. Yet I can give you inkling
Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
Greater than this.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

940Good angels keep it from us!
165What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?

SECOND GENTLEMAN


This secret is so weighty ’twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Let me have it.
945I do not talk much.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

170I am confident;
You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear
A buzzing of a separation
Between the King and Katherine?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

950Yes, but it held not;
175For when the King once heard it, out of anger
He sent command to the Lord Mayor straight
To stop the rumor and allay those tongues
That durst disperse it.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

955But that slander, sir,
180Is found a truth now, for it grows again
Fresher than e’er it was, and held for certain
The King will venture at it. Either the Cardinal,
Or some about him near, have, out of malice
960To the good queen, possessed him with a scruple
185That will undo her. To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately,
As all think, for this business.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

’Tis the Cardinal;
965And merely to revenge him on the Emperor
190For not bestowing on him at his asking
The archbishopric of Toledo this is purposed.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


I think you have hit the mark. But is ’t not cruel
That she should feel the smart of this? The Cardinal
970Will have his will, and she must fall.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

195’Tis woeful.
We are too open here to argue this.
Let’s think in private more.

They exit.

Scene 2

Enter Lord Chamberlain, reading this letter.

CHAMBERLAIN

My lord, the horses your Lordship sent
975for, with all the care I had I saw well chosen, ridden,
and furnished. They were young and handsome and
of the best breed in the north. When they were ready
5to set out for London, a man of my Lord Cardinal’s,
by commission and main power, took ’em from me
980with this reason: his master would be served before
a subject, if not before the King, which stopped our
mouths, sir.
10I fear he will indeed; well, let him have them.
He will have all, I think.

Enter to the Lord Chamberlain, the Dukes
of Norfolk and Suffolk.

NORFOLK

985Well met, my Lord Chamberlain.

CHAMBERLAIN

Good day to both your Graces.

SUFFOLK


How is the King employed?

CHAMBERLAIN

15I left him private,
Full of sad thoughts and troubles.

NORFOLK

990What’s the cause?

CHAMBERLAIN


It seems the marriage with his brother’s wife
Has crept too near his conscience.

SUFFOLK

20No, his conscience
Has crept too near another lady.

NORFOLK

995’Tis so;
This is the Cardinal’s doing. The king-cardinal,
That blind priest, like the eldest son of Fortune,
25Turns what he list. The King will know him one day.

SUFFOLK


Pray God he do! He’ll never know himself else.

NORFOLK


1000How holily he works in all his business,
And with what zeal! For, now he has cracked the
league
30Between us and the Emperor, the Queen’s
great-nephew,
1005He dives into the King’s soul and there scatters
Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
Fears and despairs—and all these for his marriage.
35And out of all these to restore the King,
He counsels a divorce, a loss of her
1010That like a jewel has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her luster;
Of her that loves him with that excellence
40That angels love good men with; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
1015Will bless the King. And is not this course pious?

CHAMBERLAIN


Heaven keep me from such counsel! ’Tis most true:
These news are everywhere, every tongue speaks ’em,
45And every true heart weeps for ’t. All that dare
Look into these affairs see this main end,
1020The French king’s sister. Heaven will one day open
The King’s eyes, that so long have slept upon
This bold bad man.

SUFFOLK

50And free us from his slavery.

NORFOLK

We had need pray,
1025And heartily, for our deliverance,
Or this imperious man will work us all
From princes into pages. All men’s honors
55Lie like one lump before him, to be fashioned
Into what pitch he please.

SUFFOLK

1030For me, my lords,
I love him not nor fear him; there’s my creed.
As I am made without him, so I’ll stand,
60If the King please. His curses and his blessings
Touch me alike: they’re breath I not believe in.
1035I knew him and I know him; so I leave him
To him that made him proud, the Pope.

NORFOLK

Let’s in,
65And with some other business put the King
From these sad thoughts that work too much upon
1040him.—
My lord, you’ll bear us company?

CHAMBERLAIN

Excuse me;
70The King has sent me otherwhere. Besides,
You’ll find a most unfit time to disturb him.
1045Health to your Lordships.

NORFOLK

Thanks, my good Lord
Chamberlain.

Lord Chamberlain exits; and the King draws
the curtain and sits reading pensively.

SUFFOLK , to Norfolk


75How sad he looks! Sure he is much afflicted.

KING


Who’s there? Ha?

NORFOLK , to Suffolk

1050Pray God he be not angry.

KING


Who’s there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
Into my private meditations? Who am I, ha?

NORFOLK


80A gracious king that pardons all offenses
Malice ne’er meant. Our breach of duty this way
1055Is business of estate, in which we come
To know your royal pleasure.

KING

You are too bold.
85Go to; I’ll make you know your times of business.
Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?

Enter Wolsey and Campeius, with a commission.

1060Who’s there? My good Lord Cardinal? O my Wolsey,
The quiet of my wounded conscience,
Thou art a cure fit for a king. To Campeius. You’re
90welcome,
Most learnèd reverend sir, into our kingdom.
1065Use us and it.—My good lord, have great care
I be not found a talker.

WOLSEY

Sir, you cannot.
95I would your Grace would give us but an hour
Of private conference.

KING , to Norfolk and Suffolk

1070We are busy. Go.

NORFOLK , aside to Suffolk


This priest has no pride in him?

SUFFOLK , aside to Norfolk

Not to speak of.
100I would not be so sick, though for his place.
But this cannot continue.

NORFOLK , aside to Suffolk

1075If it do,
I’ll venture one have-at-him.

SUFFOLK , aside to Norfolk

I another.

Norfolk and Suffolk exit.

WOLSEY


105Your Grace has given a precedent of wisdom
Above all princes in committing freely
1080Your scruple to the voice of Christendom.
Who can be angry now? What envy reach you?
The Spaniard, tied by blood and favor to her,
110Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
The trial just and noble; all the clerks—
1085I mean the learnèd ones in Christian kingdoms—
Have their free voices; Rome, the nurse of judgment,
Invited by your noble self, hath sent
115One general tongue unto us, this good man,
This just and learnèd priest, Cardinal Campeius,
1090Whom once more I present unto your Highness.

KING


And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,
And thank the holy conclave for their loves.
120They have sent me such a man I would have wished
for.

He embraces Campeius.

CAMPEIUS , handing the King a paper


1095Your Grace must needs deserve all strangers’ loves,
You are so noble. To your Highness’ hand
I tender my commission—by whose virtue,
125The court of Rome commanding, you, my Lord
Cardinal of York, are joined with me their servant
1100In the unpartial judging of this business.

KING


Two equal men. The Queen shall be acquainted
Forthwith for what you come. Where’s Gardiner?

WOLSEY


130I know your Majesty has always loved her
So dear in heart not to deny her that
1105A woman of less place might ask by law:
Scholars allowed freely to argue for her.

KING


Ay, and the best she shall have, and my favor
135To him that does best. God forbid else. Cardinal,
Prithee call Gardiner to me, my new secretary.
1110I find him a fit fellow.

Wolsey goes to the door.Enter Gardiner to Wolsey.

WOLSEY , aside to Gardiner


Give me your hand. Much joy and favor to you.
You are the King’s now.

GARDINER , aside to Wolsey

140But to be commanded
Forever by your Grace, whose hand has raised me.

KING

1115Come hither, Gardiner.

The King and Gardiner walk and whisper.

CAMPEIUS


My lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
In this man’s place before him?

WOLSEY

145Yes, he was.

CAMPEIUS


Was he not held a learnèd man?

WOLSEY

1120Yes, surely.

CAMPEIUS


Believe me, there’s an ill opinion spread, then,
Even of yourself, Lord Cardinal.

WOLSEY

150How? Of me?

CAMPEIUS


They will not stick to say you envied him
1125And, fearing he would rise—he was so virtuous—
Kept him a foreign man still, which so grieved him
That he ran mad and died.

WOLSEY

155Heav’n’s peace be with him!
That’s Christian care enough. For living murmurers,
1130There’s places of rebuke. He was a fool,
For he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow
If I command him follows my appointment.
160I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother:
We live not to be griped by meaner persons.

KING , to Gardiner


1135Deliver this with modesty to th’ Queen.
Gardiner exits.
The most convenient place that I can think of
For such receipt of learning is Blackfriars.
165There you shall meet about this weighty business.
My Wolsey, see it furnished. O, my lord,
1140Would it not grieve an able man to leave
So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!
O, ’tis a tender place, and I must leave her.

They exit.

Scene 3

Enter Anne Bullen and an old Lady.

ANNE


Not for that neither. Here’s the pang that pinches:
His Highness having lived so long with her, and she
1145So good a lady that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonor of her—by my life,
5She never knew harm-doing!—O, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthroned,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
1150To leave a thousandfold more bitter than
’Tis sweet at first t’ acquire—after this process,
10To give her the avaunt! It is a pity
Would move a monster.

OLD LADY

Hearts of most hard temper
1155Melt and lament for her.

ANNE

O, God’s will! Much better
15She ne’er had known pomp; though ’t be temporal,
Yet if that quarrel, Fortune, do divorce
It from the bearer, ’tis a sufferance panging
1160As soul and body’s severing.

OLD LADY

Alas, poor lady,
20She’s a stranger now again!

ANNE

So much the more
Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
1165I swear, ’tis better to be lowly born
And range with humble livers in content
25Than to be perked up in a glist’ring grief
And wear a golden sorrow.

OLD LADY

Our content
1170Is our best having.

ANNE

By my troth and maidenhead,
30I would not be a queen.

OLD LADY

Beshrew me, I would,
And venture maidenhead for ’t; and so would you,
1175For all this spice of your hypocrisy.
You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
35Have too a woman’s heart, which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
1180Saving your mincing, the capacity
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive
40If you might please to stretch it.

ANNE

Nay, good troth.

OLD LADY


Yes, troth, and troth. You would not be a queen?

ANNE


1185No, not for all the riches under heaven.

OLD LADY


’Tis strange. A threepence bowed would hire me,
45Old as I am, to queen it. But I pray you,
What think you of a duchess? Have you limbs
To bear that load of title?

ANNE

1190No, in truth.

OLD LADY


Then you are weakly made. Pluck off a little.
50I would not be a young count in your way
For more than blushing comes to. If your back
Cannot vouchsafe this burden, ’tis too weak
1195Ever to get a boy.

ANNE

How you do talk!
55I swear again, I would not be a queen
For all the world.

OLD LADY

In faith, for little England
1200You’d venture an emballing. I myself
Would for Carnarvanshire, although there longed
60No more to th’ crown but that. Lo, who comes here?

Enter Lord Chamberlain.

CHAMBERLAIN


Good morrow, ladies. What were ’t worth to know
The secret of your conference?

ANNE

1205My good lord,
Not your demand; it values not your asking.
65Our mistress’ sorrows we were pitying.

CHAMBERLAIN


It was a gentle business, and becoming
The action of good women. There is hope
1210All will be well.

ANNE

Now, I pray God, amen!

CHAMBERLAIN


70You bear a gentle mind, and heav’nly blessings
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s
1215Ta’en of your many virtues, the King’s Majesty
Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
75Does purpose honor to you no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke, to which title
A thousand pound a year annual support
1220Out of his grace he adds.

ANNE

I do not know
80What kind of my obedience I should tender.
More than my all is nothing, nor my prayers
Are not words duly hallowed, nor my wishes
1225More worth than empty vanities. Yet prayers and
wishes
85Are all I can return. ’Beseech your Lordship,
Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
As from a blushing handmaid, to his Highness,
1230Whose health and royalty I pray for.

CHAMBERLAIN

Lady,
90I shall not fail t’ approve the fair conceit
The King hath of you. (Aside.) I have perused her
well.
1235Beauty and honor in her are so mingled
That they have caught the King. And who knows yet
95But from this lady may proceed a gem
To lighten all this isle?—I’ll to the King
And say I spoke with you.

ANNE

1240My honored lord.

Lord Chamberlain exits.

OLD LADY

Why, this it is! See, see!
100I have been begging sixteen years in court,
Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
Come pat betwixt too early and too late
1245For any suit of pounds; and you—O, fate!—
A very fresh fish here—fie, fie, fie upon
105This compelled fortune!—have your mouth filled up
Before you open it.

ANNE

This is strange to me.

OLD LADY


1250How tastes it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no.
There was a lady once—’tis an old story—
110That would not be a queen, that would she not,
For all the mud in Egypt. Have you heard it?

ANNE


Come, you are pleasant.

OLD LADY

1255With your theme, I could
O’ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke?
115A thousand pounds a year for pure respect?
No other obligation? By my life,
That promises more thousands; honor’s train
1260Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
I know your back will bear a duchess. Say,
120Are you not stronger than you were?

ANNE

Good lady,
Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
1265And leave me out on ’t. Would I had no being
If this salute my blood a jot. It faints me
125To think what follows.
The Queen is comfortless and we forgetful
In our long absence. Pray do not deliver
1270What here you’ve heard to her.

OLD LADY

What do you think me?

They exit.

Scene 4

Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with
short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of
doctors; after them, the Bishop of Canterbury alone; after
him, the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, Rochester, and Saint
Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a
Gentleman bearing the purse with the great seal, and a
cardinal’s hat. Then two Priests, bearing each a silver
cross; then a Gentleman Usher bare-headed, accompanied
with a Sergeant-at-Arms, bearing a silver mace; then two
Gentlemen, bearing two great silver pillars. After them,
side by side, the two Cardinals, and two Noblemen with
the sword and mace. The King takes place under the cloth
of state. The two Cardinals sit under him as judges. The
Queen takes place some distance from the King. The
Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in
manner of a consistory; below them the Scribes. The
Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants
including a Crier and the Queen’s Gentleman Usher
stand in convenient order about the stage.

WOLSEY


Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
Let silence be commanded.

KING

What’s the need?
1275It hath already publicly been read,
5And on all sides th’ authority allowed.
You may then spare that time.

WOLSEY

Be ’t so. Proceed.

SCRIBE

Say “Henry King of England, come into the
1280court.”

CRIER

10Henry King of England, come into the court.

KING

Here.

SCRIBE

Say “Katherine Queen of England, come into
the court.”

CRIER

1285Katherine Queen of England, come into the
15court.

The Queen makes no answer, rises out of her
chair, goes about the court, comes to the King,
and kneels at his feet; then speaks.

QUEEN KATHERINE


Sir, I desire you do me right and justice,
And to bestow your pity on me; for
I am a most poor woman and a stranger,
1290Born out of your dominions, having here
20No judge indifferent nor no more assurance
Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,
In what have I offended you? What cause
Hath my behavior given to your displeasure
1295That thus you should proceed to put me off
25And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness
I have been to you a true and humble wife,
At all times to your will conformable,
Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
1300Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry
30As I saw it inclined. When was the hour
I ever contradicted your desire,
Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
Have I not strove to love, although I knew
1305He were mine enemy? What friend of mine
35That had to him derived your anger did I
Continue in my liking? Nay, gave notice
He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to mind
That I have been your wife in this obedience
1310Upward of twenty years, and have been blessed
40With many children by you. If, in the course
And process of this time, you can report,
And prove it too, against mine honor aught,
My bond to wedlock or my love and duty
1315Against your sacred person, in God’s name
45Turn me away and let the foul’st contempt
Shut door upon me, and so give me up
To the sharp’st kind of justice. Please you, sir,
The King your father was reputed for
1320A prince most prudent, of an excellent
50And unmatched wit and judgment. Ferdinand,
My father, King of Spain, was reckoned one
The wisest prince that there had reigned by many
A year before. It is not to be questioned
1325That they had gathered a wise council to them
55Of every realm, that did debate this business,
Who deemed our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly
Beseech you, sir, to spare me till I may
Be by my friends in Spain advised, whose counsel
1330I will implore. If not, i’ th’ name of God,
60Your pleasure be fulfilled.

WOLSEY

You have here, lady,
And of your choice, these reverend fathers, men
Of singular integrity and learning,
1335Yea, the elect o’ th’ land, who are assembled
65To plead your cause. It shall be therefore bootless
That longer you desire the court, as well
For your own quiet as to rectify
What is unsettled in the King.

CAMPEIUS

1340His Grace
70Hath spoken well and justly. Therefore, madam,
It’s fit this royal session do proceed
And that without delay their arguments
Be now produced and heard.

QUEEN KATHERINE

1345Lord Cardinal,
75To you I speak.

WOLSEY

Your pleasure, madam.

QUEEN KATHERINE

Sir,
I am about to weep; but thinking that
1350We are a queen, or long have dreamed so, certain
80The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
I’ll turn to sparks of fire.

WOLSEY

Be patient yet.

QUEEN KATHERINE


I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
1355Or God will punish me. I do believe,
85Induced by potent circumstances, that
You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
You shall not be my judge; for it is you
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me—
1360Which God’s dew quench! Therefore I say again,
90I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
Refuse you for my judge, whom, yet once more,
I hold my most malicious foe and think not
At all a friend to truth.

WOLSEY

1365I do profess
95You speak not like yourself, who ever yet
Have stood to charity and displayed th’ effects
Of disposition gentle and of wisdom
O’ertopping woman’s power. Madam, you do me
1370wrong.
100I have no spleen against you, nor injustice
For you or any. How far I have proceeded,
Or how far further shall, is warranted
By a commission from the Consistory,
1375Yea, the whole Consistory of Rome. You charge me
105That I “have blown this coal.” I do deny it.
The King is present. If it be known to him
That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
And worthily, my falsehood, yea, as much
1380As you have done my truth. If he know
110That I am free of your report, he knows
I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
It lies to cure me, and the cure is to
Remove these thoughts from you, the which before
1385His Highness shall speak in, I do beseech
115You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
And to say so no more.

QUEEN KATHERINE

My lord, my lord,
I am a simple woman, much too weak
1390T’ oppose your cunning. You’re meek and
120humble-mouthed;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility, but your heart
Is crammed with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
1395You have by fortune and his Highness’ favors
125Gone slightly o’er low steps, and now are mounted
Where powers are your retainers, and your words,
Domestics to you, serve your will as ’t please
Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
1400You tender more your person’s honor than
130Your high profession spiritual, that again
I do refuse you for my judge, and here,
Before you all, appeal unto the Pope
To bring my whole cause ’fore his Holiness,
1405And to be judged by him.

She curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.

CAMPEIUS

135The Queen is obstinate,
Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
Disdainful to be tried by ’t. ’Tis not well.
She’s going away.

KING

1410Call her again.

CRIER

140Katherine, Queen of England, come into the
court.

GENTLEMAN USHER

Madam, you are called back.

QUEEN KATHERINE


What need you note it? Pray you, keep your way.
1415When you are called, return. Now, the Lord help!
145They vex me past my patience. Pray you, pass on.
I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
Upon this business my appearance make
In any of their courts.

Queen and her Attendants exit.

KING

1420Go thy ways, Kate.
150That man i’ th’ world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in naught be trusted,
For speaking false in that. Thou art, alone—
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
1425Thy meekness saintlike, wifelike government,
155Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out—
The queen of earthly queens. She’s noble born,
And like her true nobility she has
1430Carried herself towards me.

WOLSEY

160Most gracious sir,
In humblest manner I require your Highness
That it shall please you to declare in hearing
Of all these ears—for where I am robbed and bound,
1435There must I be unloosed, although not there
165At once and fully satisfied—whether ever I
Did broach this business to your Highness, or
Laid any scruple in your way which might
Induce you to the question on ’t, or ever
1440Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
170A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
Be to the prejudice of her present state,
Or touch of her good person?

KING

My Lord Cardinal,
1445I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honor,
175I free you from ’t. You are not to be taught
That you have many enemies that know not
Why they are so but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do. By some of these
1450The Queen is put in anger. You’re excused.
180But will you be more justified? You ever
Have wished the sleeping of this business, never
desired
It to be stirred, but oft have hindered, oft,
1455The passages made toward it. On my honor
185I speak my good Lord Cardinal to this point
And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to ’t,
I will be bold with time and your attention.
Then mark th’ inducement. Thus it came; give heed
1460to ’t:
190My conscience first received a tenderness,
Scruple, and prick on certain speeches uttered
By th’ Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador,
Who had been hither sent on the debating
1465A marriage ’twixt the Duke of Orleans and
195Our daughter Mary. I’ th’ progress of this business,
Ere a determinate resolution, he,
I mean the Bishop, did require a respite
Wherein he might the King his lord advertise
1470Whether our daughter were legitimate,
200Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
Sometime our brother’s wife. This respite shook
The bosom of my conscience, entered me,
Yea, with a spitting power, and made to tremble
1475The region of my breast; which forced such way
205That many mazed considerings did throng
And pressed in with this caution. First, methought
I stood not in the smile of heaven, who had
Commanded nature that my lady’s womb,
1480If it conceived a male child by me, should
210Do no more offices of life to ’t than
The grave does to th’ dead, for her male issue
Or died where they were made, or shortly after
This world had aired them. Hence I took a thought
1485This was a judgment on me, that my kingdom,
215Well worthy the best heir o’ th’ world, should not
Be gladded in ’t by me. Then follows that
I weighed the danger which my realms stood in
By this my issue’s fail, and that gave to me
1490Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
220The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
Toward this remedy whereupon we are
Now present here together. That’s to say,
I meant to rectify my conscience, which
1495I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,
225By all the reverend fathers of the land
And doctors learnèd. First, I began in private
With you, my Lord of Lincoln. You remember
How under my oppression I did reek
1500When I first moved you.

LINCOLN

230Very well, my liege.

KING


I have spoke long. Be pleased yourself to say
How far you satisfied me.

LINCOLN

So please your Highness,
1505The question did at first so stagger me,
235Bearing a state of mighty moment in ’t
And consequence of dread, that I committed
The daring’st counsel which I had to doubt,
And did entreat your Highness to this course
1510Which you are running here.

KING

240I then moved you,
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your leave
To make this present summons. Unsolicited
I left no reverend person in this court,
1515But by particular consent proceeded
245Under your hands and seals. Therefore go on,
For no dislike i’ th’ world against the person
Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
Of my allegèd reasons drives this forward.
1520Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
250And kingly dignity, we are contented
To wear our mortal state to come with her,
Katherine our queen, before the primest creature
That’s paragoned o’ th’ world.

CAMPEIUS

1525So please your Highness,
255The Queen being absent, ’tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this court till further day.
Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
Made to the Queen to call back her appeal
1530She intends unto his Holiness.

KING , aside

260I may perceive
These cardinals trifle with me. I abhor
This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
My learnèd and well-belovèd servant Cranmer,
1535Prithee return. With thy approach, I know,
265My comfort comes along.—Break up the court.
I say, set on.

They exit, in manner as they entered.

ACT 3

Scene 1

Enter Queen and her Women, as at work.

QUEEN KATHERINE


Take thy lute, wench. My soul grows sad with troubles.
Sing, and disperse ’em if thou canst. Leave working.

WOMAN sings song.



1540Orpheus with his lute made trees
And the mountaintops that freeze
5Bow themselves when he did sing.
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung, as sun and showers
1545There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
10Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
1550Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep or, hearing, die.

Enter a Gentleman.

QUEEN KATHERINE

15How now?

GENTLEMAN


An ’t please your Grace, the two great cardinals
Wait in the presence.

QUEEN KATHERINE

1555Would they speak with me?

GENTLEMAN


They willed me say so, madam.

QUEEN KATHERINE

20Pray their Graces
To come near.Gentleman exits.
What can be their business
1560With me, a poor weak woman, fall’n from favor?
I do not like their coming, now I think on ’t.
25They should be good men, their affairs as righteous.
But all hoods make not monks.

Enter the two Cardinals, Wolsey and Campeius.

WOLSEY

Peace to your Highness.

QUEEN KATHERINE


1565Your Graces find me here part of a housewife;
I would be all, against the worst may happen.
30What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?

WOLSEY


May it please you, noble madam, to withdraw
Into your private chamber, we shall give you
1570The full cause of our coming.

QUEEN KATHERINE

Speak it here.
35There’s nothing I have done yet, o’ my conscience,
Deserves a corner. Would all other women
Could speak this with as free a soul as I do.
1575My lords, I care not, so much I am happy
Above a number, if my actions
40Were tried by ev’ry tongue, ev’ry eye saw ’em,
Envy and base opinion set against ’em,
I know my life so even. If your business
1580Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly. Truth loves open dealing.

WOLSEY

45Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina
serenissima—

QUEEN KATHERINE

O, good my lord, no Latin!
1585I am not such a truant since my coming
As not to know the language I have lived in.
50A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,
suspicious.
Pray speak in English. Here are some will thank you,
1590If you speak truth, for their poor mistress’ sake.
Believe me, she has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,
55The willing’st sin I ever yet committed
May be absolved in English.

WOLSEY

Noble lady,
1595I am sorry my integrity should breed—
And service to his Majesty and you—
60So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
We come not by the way of accusation,
To taint that honor every good tongue blesses,
1600Nor to betray you any way to sorrow—
You have too much, good lady—but to know
65How you stand minded in the weighty difference
Between the King and you, and to deliver,
Like free and honest men, our just opinions
1605And comforts to your cause.

CAMPEIUS

Most honored madam,
70My Lord of York, out of his noble nature,
Zeal, and obedience he still bore your Grace,
Forgetting, like a good man, your late censure
1610Both of his truth and him—which was too far—
Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
75His service and his counsel.

QUEEN KATHERINE , aside

To betray me.—
My lords, I thank you both for your good wills.
1615You speak like honest men; pray God you prove so.
But how to make you suddenly an answer
80In such a point of weight, so near mine honor—
More near my life, I fear—with my weak wit,
And to such men of gravity and learning,
1620In truth I know not. I was set at work
Among my maids, full little, God knows, looking
85Either for such men or such business.
For her sake that I have been—for I feel
The last fit of my greatness—good your Graces,
1625Let me have time and counsel for my cause.
Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless.

WOLSEY


90Madam, you wrong the King’s love with these fears;
Your hopes and friends are infinite.

QUEEN KATHERINE

In England
1630But little for my profit. Can you think, lords,
That any Englishman dare give me counsel,
95Or be a known friend, ’gainst his Highness’ pleasure,
Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
And live a subject? Nay, forsooth. My friends,
1635They that must weigh out my afflictions,
They that my trust must grow to, live not here.
100They are, as all my other comforts, far hence
In mine own country, lords.

CAMPEIUS

I would your Grace
1640Would leave your griefs and take my counsel.

QUEEN KATHERINE

How, sir?

CAMPEIUS


105Put your main cause into the King’s protection.
He’s loving and most gracious. ’Twill be much
Both for your honor better and your cause,
1645For if the trial of the law o’ertake you,
You’ll part away disgraced.

WOLSEY

110He tells you rightly.

QUEEN KATHERINE


You tell me what you wish for both: my ruin.
Is this your Christian counsel? Out upon you!
1650Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
That no king can corrupt.

CAMPEIUS

115Your rage mistakes us.

QUEEN KATHERINE


The more shame for you! Holy men I thought you,
Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
1655But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear you.
Mend ’em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?
120The cordial that you bring a wretched lady,
A woman lost among you, laughed at, scorned?
I will not wish you half my miseries;
1660I have more charity. But say I warned you:
Take heed, for heaven’s sake, take heed, lest at once
125The burden of my sorrows fall upon you.

WOLSEY


Madam, this is a mere distraction.
You turn the good we offer into envy.

QUEEN KATHERINE


1665You turn me into nothing! Woe upon you
And all such false professors. Would you have me—
130If you have any justice, any pity,
If you be anything but churchmen’s habits—
Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?
1670Alas, has banished me his bed already,
His love, too, long ago. I am old, my lords,
135And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is only my obedience. What can happen
To me above this wretchedness? All your studies
1675Make me a curse like this.

CAMPEIUS

Your fears are worse.

QUEEN KATHERINE


140Have I lived thus long—let me speak myself,
Since virtue finds no friends—a wife, a true one—
A woman, I dare say without vainglory,
1680Never yet branded with suspicion—
Have I with all my full affections
145Still met the King, loved him next heav’n, obeyed him,
Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him,
Almost forgot my prayers to content him,
1685And am I thus rewarded? ’Tis not well, lords.
Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
150One that ne’er dreamed a joy beyond his pleasure,
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honor: a great patience.

WOLSEY


1690Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.

QUEEN KATHERINE


My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty
155To give up willingly that noble title
Your master wed me to. Nothing but death
Shall e’er divorce my dignities.

WOLSEY

1695Pray hear me.

QUEEN KATHERINE


Would I had never trod this English earth
160Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
You have angels’ faces, but heaven knows your hearts.
What will become of me now, wretched lady?
1700I am the most unhappy woman living.
To her Women. Alas, poor wenches, where are now
165your fortunes?
Shipwracked upon a kingdom where no pity,
No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for me,
1705Almost no grave allowed me, like the lily
That once was mistress of the field and flourished,
170I’ll hang my head and perish.

WOLSEY

If your Grace
Could but be brought to know our ends are honest,
1710You’d feel more comfort. Why should we, good lady,
Upon what cause, wrong you? Alas, our places,
175The way of our profession, is against it.
We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow ’em.
For goodness’ sake, consider what you do,
1715How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
Grow from the King’s acquaintance by this carriage.
180The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
So much they love it. But to stubborn spirits
They swell and grow as terrible as storms.
1720I know you have a gentle, noble temper,
A soul as even as a calm. Pray think us
185Those we profess: peacemakers, friends, and servants.

CAMPEIUS


Madam, you’ll find it so. You wrong your virtues
With these weak women’s fears. A noble spirit,
1725As yours was put into you, ever casts
Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The King loves
190you;
Beware you lose it not. For us, if you please
To trust us in your business, we are ready
1730To use our utmost studies in your service.

QUEEN KATHERINE


Do what you will, my lords, and pray forgive me
195If I have used myself unmannerly.
You know I am a woman, lacking wit
To make a seemly answer to such persons.
1735Pray do my service to his Majesty.
He has my heart yet and shall have my prayers
200While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
Bestow your counsels on me. She now begs
That little thought, when she set footing here,
1740She should have bought her dignities so dear.

They exit.

Scene 2

Enter the Duke of Norfolk, Duke of Suffolk, Lord Surrey,
and Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK


If you will now unite in your complaints
And force them with a constancy, the Cardinal
Cannot stand under them. If you omit
The offer of this time, I cannot promise
51745But that you shall sustain more new disgraces
With these you bear already.

SURREY

I am joyful
To meet the least occasion that may give me
Remembrance of my father-in-law the Duke,
101750To be revenged on him.

SUFFOLK

Which of the peers
Have uncontemned gone by him, or at least
Strangely neglected? When did he regard
The stamp of nobleness in any person
151755Out of himself?

CHAMBERLAIN

My lords, you speak your pleasures;
What he deserves of you and me I know;
What we can do to him—though now the time
Gives way to us—I much fear. If you cannot
201760Bar his access to th’ King, never attempt
Anything on him, for he hath a witchcraft
Over the King in ’s tongue.

NORFOLK

O, fear him not.
His spell in that is out. The King hath found
251765Matter against him that forever mars
The honey of his language. No, he’s settled,
Not to come off, in his displeasure.

SURREY

Sir,
I should be glad to hear such news as this
301770Once every hour.

NORFOLK

Believe it, this is true.
In the divorce his contrary proceedings
Are all unfolded, wherein he appears
As I would wish mine enemy.

SURREY

351775How came
His practices to light?

SUFFOLK

Most strangely.

SURREY

O, how, how?

SUFFOLK


The Cardinal’s letters to the Pope miscarried
401780And came to th’ eye o’ th’ King, wherein was read
How that the Cardinal did entreat his Holiness
To stay the judgment o’ th’ divorce; for if
It did take place, “I do,” quoth he, “perceive
My king is tangled in affection to
451785A creature of the Queen’s, Lady Anne Bullen.”

SURREY


Has the King this?

SUFFOLK

Believe it.

SURREY

Will this work?

CHAMBERLAIN


The King in this perceives him how he coasts
501790And hedges his own way. But in this point
All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
After his patient’s death: the King already
Hath married the fair lady.

SURREY

Would he had!

SUFFOLK


551795May you be happy in your wish, my lord,
For I profess you have it.

SURREY

Now, all my joy
Trace the conjunction!

SUFFOLK

My amen to ’t.

NORFOLK

601800All men’s.

SUFFOLK


There’s order given for her coronation.
Marry, this is yet but young and may be left
To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
She is a gallant creature and complete
651805In mind and feature. I persuade me, from her
Will fall some blessing to this land which shall
In it be memorized.

SURREY

But will the King
Digest this letter of the Cardinal’s?
701810The Lord forbid!

NORFOLK

Marry, amen!

SUFFOLK

No, no.
There be more wasps that buzz about his nose
Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
751815Is stol’n away to Rome, hath ta’en no leave,
Has left the cause o’ th’ King unhandled, and
Is posted as the agent of our cardinal
To second all his plot. I do assure you
The King cried “Ha!” at this.

CHAMBERLAIN

801820Now God incense him,
And let him cry “Ha!” louder.

NORFOLK

But, my lord,
When returns Cranmer?

SUFFOLK


He is returned in his opinions, which
851825Have satisfied the King for his divorce,
Together with all famous colleges
Almost in Christendom. Shortly, I believe,
His second marriage shall be published, and
Her coronation. Katherine no more
901830Shall be called queen, but princess dowager
And widow to Prince Arthur.

NORFOLK

This same Cranmer’s
A worthy fellow, and hath ta’en much pain
In the King’s business.

SUFFOLK

951835He has, and we shall see him
For it an archbishop.

NORFOLK

So I hear.

SUFFOLK

’Tis so.

Enter Wolsey and Cromwell, meeting.

The Cardinal!

NORFOLK


1001840Observe, observe; he’s moody.

They stand aside.

WOLSEY

The packet, Cromwell;
Gave ’t you the King?

CROMWELL

To his own hand, in ’s bedchamber.

WOLSEY


Looked he o’ th’ inside of the paper?

CROMWELL

1051845Presently
He did unseal them, and the first he viewed,
He did it with a serious mind; a heed
Was in his countenance. You he bade
Attend him here this morning.

WOLSEY

1101850Is he ready
To come abroad?

CROMWELL

I think by this he is.

WOLSEY

Leave me awhile.Cromwell exits.
Aside. It shall be to the Duchess of Alençon,
1151855The French king’s sister; he shall marry her.
Anne Bullen? No, I’ll no Anne Bullens for him.
There’s more in ’t than fair visage. Bullen?
No, we’ll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!

NORFOLK


1201860He’s discontented.

SUFFOLK

Maybe he hears the King
Does whet his anger to him.

SURREY

Sharp enough,
Lord, for thy justice!

WOLSEY , aside


1251865The late queen’s gentlewoman, a knight’s daughter,
To be her mistress’ mistress? The Queen’s queen?
This candle burns not clear. ’Tis I must snuff it;
Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
And well-deserving? Yet I know her for
1301870A spleeny Lutheran, and not wholesome to
Our cause that she should lie i’ th’ bosom of
Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up
An heretic, an arch-one, Cranmer, one
Hath crawled into the favor of the King
1351875And is his oracle.

NORFOLK

He is vexed at something.

SURREY


I would ’twere something that would fret the string,
The master-cord on ’s heart.

SUFFOLK

The King, the King!

Enter King, reading of a schedule, with Lovell
and Attendants.

KING


1401880What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
To his own portion! And what expense by th’ hour
Seems to flow from him! How i’ th’ name of thrift
Does he rake this together? Seeing the nobles. Now,
my lords,
1451885Saw you the Cardinal?

NORFOLK , indicating Wolsey

My lord, we have
Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
Is in his brain. He bites his lip, and starts,
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
1501890Then lays his finger on his temple, straight
Springs out into fast gait, then stops again,
Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts
His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.

KING

1551895It may well be
There is a mutiny in ’s mind. This morning
Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
As I required, and wot you what I found?
There—on my conscience, put unwittingly—
1601900Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing
The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
Rich stuffs and ornaments of household, which
I find at such proud rate that it outspeaks
Possession of a subject.

NORFOLK

1651905It’s heaven’s will!
Some spirit put this paper in the packet
To bless your eye withal.

KING , studying Wolsey

If we did think
His contemplation were above the Earth
1701910And fixed on spiritual object, he should still
Dwell in his musings, but I am afraid
His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
His serious considering.

King takes his seat, whispers Lovell,
who goes to the Cardinal.

WOLSEY

Heaven forgive me!
1751915Ever God bless your Highness.

KING

Good my lord,
You are full of heavenly stuff and bear the inventory
Of your best graces in your mind, the which
You were now running o’er. You have scarce time
1801920To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
To keep your earthly audit. Sure, in that
I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
To have you therein my companion.

WOLSEY

Sir,
1851925For holy offices I have a time; a time
To think upon the part of business which
I bear i’ th’ state; and Nature does require
Her times of preservation, which perforce
I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
1901930Must give my tendance to.

KING

You have said well.

WOLSEY


And ever may your Highness yoke together,
As I will lend you cause, my doing well
With my well saying.

KING

1951935’Tis well said again,
And ’tis a kind of good deed to say well.
And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you;
He said he did, and with his deed did crown
His word upon you. Since I had my office
2001940I have kept you next my heart, have not alone
Employed you where high profits might come home,
But pared my present havings to bestow
My bounties upon you.

WOLSEY , aside

What should this mean?

SURREY , aside


2051945The Lord increase this business!

KING

Have I not made you
The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me
If what I now pronounce you have found true;
And, if you may confess it, say withal
2101950If you are bound to us or no. What say you?

WOLSEY


My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
Showered on me daily, have been more than could
My studied purposes requite, which went
Beyond all man’s endeavors. My endeavors
2151955Have ever come too short of my desires,
Yet filed with my abilities. Mine own ends
Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
To th’ good of your most sacred person and
The profit of the state. For your great graces
2201960Heaped upon me, poor undeserver, I
Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty,
Which ever has and ever shall be growing
Till death—that winter—kill it.

KING

2251965Fairly answered.
A loyal and obedient subject is
Therein illustrated. The honor of it
Does pay the act of it, as, i’ th’ contrary,
The foulness is the punishment. I presume
2301970That, as my hand has opened bounty to you,
My heart dropped love, my power rained honor, more
On you than any, so your hand and heart,
Your brain, and every function of your power
Should—notwithstanding that your bond of duty
2351975As ’twere in love’s particular—be more
To me, your friend, than any.

WOLSEY

I do profess
That for your Highness’ good I ever labored
More than mine own, that am, have, and will be—
2401980Though all the world should crack their duty to you
And throw it from their soul, though perils did
Abound as thick as thought could make ’em, and
Appear in forms more horrid—yet my duty,
As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
2451985Should the approach of this wild river break,
And stand unshaken yours.

KING

’Tis nobly spoken.—
Take notice, lords: he has a loyal breast,
For you have seen him open ’t.
He hands Wolsey papers.
2501990Read o’er this,
And after, this; and then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.

King exits, frowning upon the Cardinal;
the nobles throng after him smiling
and whispering, and exit.

WOLSEY

What should this mean?
What sudden anger’s this? How have I reaped it?
2551995He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
Leaped from his eyes. So looks the chafèd lion
Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him,
Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper—
I fear, the story of his anger.
He reads one of the papers.
2602000’Tis so.
This paper has undone me. ’Tis th’ accompt
Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
For mine own ends—indeed, to gain the popedom
And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence,
2652005Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil
Made me put this main secret in the packet
I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this?
No new device to beat this from his brains?
I know ’twill stir him strongly; yet I know
2702010A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
Will bring me off again.He looks at another paper.
What’s this? “To th’ Pope”?
The letter, as I live, with all the business
I writ to ’s Holiness. Nay then, farewell!
2752015I have touched the highest point of all my greatness,
And from that full meridian of my glory
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall
Like a bright exhalation in the evening
And no man see me more.

Enter to Wolsey the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the
Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain.

NORFOLK


2802020Hear the King’s pleasure, cardinal, who commands
you
To render up the great seal presently
Into our hands, and to confine yourself
To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester’s,
2852025Till you hear further from his Highness.

WOLSEY

Stay.
Where’s your commission, lords? Words cannot carry
Authority so weighty.

SUFFOLK

Who dare cross ’em,
2902030Bearing the King’s will from his mouth expressly?

WOLSEY


Till I find more than will or words to do it—
I mean your malice—know, officious lords,
I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
Of what coarse metal you are molded, envy;
2952035How eagerly you follow my disgraces,
As if it fed you, and how sleek and wanton
You appear in everything may bring my ruin.
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
You have Christian warrant for ’em, and no doubt
3002040In time will find their fit rewards. That seal
You ask with such a violence, the King,
Mine and your master, with his own hand gave me;
Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honors,
During my life; and to confirm his goodness,
3052045Tied it by letters patents. Now, who’ll take it?

SURREY


The King that gave it.

WOLSEY

It must be himself, then.

SURREY


Thou art a proud traitor, priest.

WOLSEY

Proud lord, thou liest.
3102050Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
Have burnt that tongue than said so.

SURREY

Thy ambition,
Thou scarlet sin, robbed this bewailing land
Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law.
3152055The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
With thee and all thy best parts bound together,
Weighed not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
You sent me Deputy for Ireland,
Far from his succor, from the King, from all
3202060That might have mercy on the fault thou gav’st him,
Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
Absolved him with an ax.

WOLSEY

This, and all else
This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
3252065I answer, is most false. The Duke by law
Found his deserts. How innocent I was
From any private malice in his end,
His noble jury and foul cause can witness.—
If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you
3302070You have as little honesty as honor,
That in the way of loyalty and truth
Toward the King, my ever royal master,
Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
And all that love his follies.

SURREY

3352075By my soul,
Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shouldst feel
My sword i’ th’ life blood of thee else.—My lords,
Can you endure to hear this arrogance?
And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely,
3402080To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
Farewell, nobility. Let his Grace go forward
And dare us with his cap, like larks.

WOLSEY

All goodness
Is poison to thy stomach.

SURREY

3452085Yes, that goodness
Of gleaning all the land’s wealth into one,
Into your own hands, card’nal, by extortion;
The goodness of your intercepted packets
You writ to th’ Pope against the King. Your goodness,
3502090Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.—
My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble,
As you respect the common good, the state
Of our despised nobility, our issues,
Whom, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,
3552095Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
Collected from his life.—I’ll startle you
Worse than the sacring bell when the brown wench
Lay kissing in your arms, Lord Cardinal.

WOLSEY


How much, methinks, I could despise this man,
3602100But that I am bound in charity against it!

NORFOLK


Those articles, my lord, are in the King’s hand;
But thus much, they are foul ones.

WOLSEY

So much fairer
And spotless shall mine innocence arise
3652105When the King knows my truth.

SURREY

This cannot save you.
I thank my memory I yet remember
Some of these articles, and out they shall.
Now, if you can blush and cry “Guilty,” cardinal,
3702110You’ll show a little honesty.

WOLSEY

Speak on, sir.
I dare your worst objections. If I blush,
It is to see a nobleman want manners.

SURREY


I had rather want those than my head. Have at you:
3752115First, that without the King’s assent or knowledge,
You wrought to be a legate, by which power
You maimed the jurisdiction of all bishops.

NORFOLK


Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
To foreign princes, “ego et rex meus”
3802120Was still inscribed, in which you brought the King
To be your servant.

SUFFOLK

Then, that without the knowledge
Either of king or council, when you went
Ambassador to the Emperor, you made bold
3852125To carry into Flanders the great seal.

SURREY


Item, you sent a large commission
To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude,
Without the King’s will or the state’s allowance,
A league between his Highness and Ferrara.

SUFFOLK


3902130That out of mere ambition you have caused
Your holy hat to be stamped on the King’s coin.

SURREY


Then, that you have sent innumerable substance—
By what means got I leave to your own conscience—
To furnish Rome and to prepare the ways
3952135You have for dignities, to the mere undoing
Of all the kingdom. Many more there are
Which, since they are of you, and odious,
I will not taint my mouth with.

CHAMBERLAIN

O, my lord,
4002140Press not a falling man too far! ’Tis virtue.
His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
So little of his great self.

SURREY

I forgive him.

SUFFOLK


4052145Lord Cardinal, the King’s further pleasure is—
Because all those things you have done of late
By your power legative within this kingdom
Fall into th’ compass of a praemunire—
That therefore such a writ be sued against you,
4102150To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
Out of the King’s protection. This is my charge.

NORFOLK


And so we’ll leave you to your meditations
How to live better. For your stubborn answer
4152155About the giving back the great seal to us,
The King shall know it and, no doubt, shall thank
you.
So, fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinal.

WOLSEY


So, farewell to the little good you bear me.
All but Wolsey exit.
4202160Farewell? A long farewell to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: today he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; tomorrow blossoms
And bears his blushing honors thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
4252165And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
4302170But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride
At length broke under me and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream that must forever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate you.
4352175I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes’ favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
4402180And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

CROMWELL


I have no power to speak, sir.

WOLSEY

What, amazed
4452185At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fall’n indeed.

CROMWELL

How does your Grace?

WOLSEY

Why, well.
4502190Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now, and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The King has cured me—
I humbly thank his Grace—and from these shoulders,
4552195These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy: too much honor.
O, ’tis a burden, Cromwell, ’tis a burden
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

CROMWELL


I am glad your Grace has made that right use of it.

WOLSEY


4602200I hope I have. I am able now, methinks,
Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
To endure more miseries and greater far
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

CROMWELL

4652205The heaviest and the worst
Is your displeasure with the King.

WOLSEY

God bless him.

CROMWELL


The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord Chancellor in your place.

WOLSEY

4702210That’s somewhat sudden.
But he’s a learnèd man. May he continue
Long in his Highness’ favor and do justice
For truth’s sake and his conscience, that his bones,
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
4752215May have a tomb of orphans’ tears wept on him.
What more?

CROMWELL

That Cranmer is returned with welcome,
Installed Lord Archbishop of Canterbury.

WOLSEY


That’s news indeed.

CROMWELL

4802220Last, that the Lady Anne,
Whom the King hath in secrecy long married,
This day was viewed in open as his queen,
Going to chapel, and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.

WOLSEY


4852225There was the weight that pulled me down.
O Cromwell,
The King has gone beyond me. All my glories
In that one woman I have lost forever.
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors,
4902230Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell.
I am a poor fall’n man, unworthy now
To be thy lord and master. Seek the King;
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
4952235What and how true thou art. He will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him—
I know his noble nature—not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not. Make use now, and provide
5002240For thine own future safety.

CROMWELL , weeping

O, my lord,
Must I then leave you? Must I needs forgo
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
5052245With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The King shall have my service, but my prayers
Forever and forever shall be yours.

WOLSEY , weeping


Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries, but thou hast forced me,
5102250Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let’s dry our eyes. And thus far hear me, Cromwell,
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee;
5152255Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rise in,
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Mark but my fall and that that ruined me.
5202260Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition!
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee.
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
5252265Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim’st at be thy country’s,
Thy God’s, and truth’s. Then if thou fall’st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall’st a blessèd martyr.
5302270Serve the King. And, prithee, lead me in.
There take an inventory of all I have
To the last penny; ’tis the King’s. My robe
And my integrity to heaven is all
I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
5352275Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, He would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies.

CROMWELL


Good sir, have patience.

WOLSEY

So I have. Farewell,
5402280The hopes of court! My hopes in heaven do dwell.

They exit.

ACT 4

Scene 1

Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another, the First
Gentleman carrying a paper.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


You’re well met once again.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

So are you.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


You come to take your stand here and behold
The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?

SECOND GENTLEMAN


52285’Tis all my business. At our last encounter,
The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


’Tis very true. But that time offered sorrow,
This general joy.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

’Tis well. The citizens
102290I am sure have shown at full their royal minds,
As, let ’em have their rights, they are ever forward
In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants, and sights of honor.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Never greater,
152295Nor, I’ll assure you, better taken, sir.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


May I be bold to ask what that contains,
That paper in your hand?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Yes, ’tis the list
Of those that claim their offices this day
202300By custom of the coronation.
The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
To be High Steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
He to be Earl Marshal. You may read the rest.

He offers him the paper.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


I thank you, sir. Had I not known those customs,
252305I should have been beholding to your paper.
But I beseech you, what’s become of Katherine,
The Princess Dowager? How goes her business?

FIRST GENTLEMAN


That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
302310Learnèd and reverend fathers of his order,
Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
From Ampthill, where the Princess lay, to which
She was often cited by them, but appeared not;
And, to be short, for not appearance and
352315The King’s late scruple, by the main assent
Of all these learnèd men she was divorced,
And the late marriage made of none effect;
Since which she was removed to Kymmalton,
Where she remains now sick.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

402320Alas, good lady!
Hautboys. A lively flourish of trumpets.
The trumpets sound. Stand close. The Queen is coming.

Then, enter two Judges; Lord Chancellor, with purse
and mace before him. Choristers singing. Music.
Enter Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then
Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his head he wore a
gilt copper crown.

A royal train, believe me! These I know.
Enter Marques Dorset, bearing a scepter of gold; on his
head a demi-coronal of gold. With him, the Earl of
Surrey, bearing the rod of silver with the dove, crowned
with an earl’s coronet. Collars of S’s.

Who’s that that bears the scepter?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Marques Dorset,
452325And that the Earl of Surrey with the rod.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


A bold brave gentleman.

Enter Duke of Suffolk, in his robe of estate, his
coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High
Steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolk, with the rod of
Marshalship, a coronet on his head. Collars of S’s.

That should be
The Duke of Suffolk.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

’Tis the same: High Steward.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


502330And that my Lord of Norfolk?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Yes.

Enter a canopy, borne by four of the Cinque-ports,
under it the Queen in her robe, in her hair, richly
adorned with pearl, crowned. On each side her, the
Bishops of London and Winchester.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Heaven bless thee!
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on.—
Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel.
552335Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
And more, and richer, when he strains that lady.
I cannot blame his conscience.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

They that bear
The cloth of honor over her are four barons
602340Of the Cinque-ports.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


Those men are happy, and so are all are near her.
Enter the Old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of
gold wrought with flowers, bearing the Queen’s train.
Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain circlets of gold
without flowers.

I take it she that carries up the train
Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


It is, and all the rest are countesses.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


652345Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


And sometimes falling ones.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

No more of that.

The Coronation procession exits, having
passed over the stage in order and state, and then
a great flourish of trumpets.Enter a third Gentleman.

FIRST GENTLEMAN


God save you, sir. Where have you been broiling?

THIRD GENTLEMAN


Among the crowd i’ th’ Abbey, where a finger
702350Could not be wedged in more. I am stifled
With the mere rankness of their joy.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

You saw
The ceremony?

THIRD GENTLEMAN

That I did.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

752355How was it?

THIRD GENTLEMAN


Well worth the seeing.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Good sir, speak it to us!

THIRD GENTLEMAN


As well as I am able. The rich stream
Of lords and ladies, having brought the Queen
802360To a prepared place in the choir, fell off
A distance from her, while her Grace sat down
To rest awhile, some half an hour or so,
In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
The beauty of her person to the people.
852365Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
That ever lay by man, which when the people
Had the full view of, such a noise arose
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest—
As loud and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks,
902370Doublets, I think, flew up, and had their faces
Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
I never saw before. Great-bellied women
That had not half a week to go, like rams
In the old time of war, would shake the press
952375And make ’em reel before ’em. No man living
Could say “This is my wife there,” all were woven
So strangely in one piece.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

But what followed?

THIRD GENTLEMAN


At length her Grace rose, and with modest paces
1002380Came to the altar, where she kneeled and saintlike
Cast her fair eyes to heaven and prayed devoutly,
Then rose again and bowed her to the people.
When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
She had all the royal makings of a queen—
1052385As, holy oil, Edward Confessor’s crown,
The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems—
Laid nobly on her; which performed, the choir,
With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
Together sung . So she parted,
1102390And with the same full state paced back again
To York Place, where the feast is held.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Sir,
You must no more call it “York Place”; that’s past,
For since the Cardinal fell, that title’s lost.
1152395’Tis now the King’s and called “Whitehall.”

THIRD GENTLEMAN

I know it,
But ’tis so lately altered that the old name
Is fresh about me.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

What two reverend bishops
1202400Were those that went on each side of the Queen?

THIRD GENTLEMAN


Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester,
Newly preferred from the King’s secretary,
The other London.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

He of Winchester
1252405Is held no great good lover of the Archbishop’s,
The virtuous Cranmer.

THIRD GENTLEMAN

All the land knows that.
However, yet there is no great breach. When it comes,
Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


1302410Who may that be, I pray you?

THIRD GENTLEMAN

Thomas Cromwell,
A man in much esteem with th’ King, and truly
A worthy friend. The King has made him
Master o’ th’ Jewel House,
1352415And one already of the Privy Council.

SECOND GENTLEMAN


He will deserve more.

THIRD GENTLEMAN

Yes, without all doubt.
Come, gentlemen, you shall go my way,
Which is to th’ court, and there you shall be my
1402420guests,
Something I can command. As I walk thither,
I’ll tell you more.

BOTH

You may command us, sir.

They exit.

Scene 2

Enter Katherine Dowager, sick, led between Griffith, her
gentleman usher, and Patience, her woman.

GRIFFITH


How does your Grace?

KATHERINE

2425O Griffith, sick to death.
My legs like loaden branches bow to th’ earth,
Willing to leave their burden. Reach a chair.
She sits.
5So. Now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou ledst me,
2430That the great child of honor, Cardinal Wolsey,
Was dead?

GRIFFITH

Yes, madam, but I think your Grace,
10Out of the pain you suffered, gave no ear to ’t.

KATHERINE


Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died.
2435If well, he stepped before me happily
For my example.

GRIFFITH

Well, the voice goes, madam;
15For after the stout Earl Northumberland
Arrested him at York and brought him forward,
2440As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,
He fell sick suddenly and grew so ill
He could not sit his mule.

KATHERINE

20Alas, poor man!

GRIFFITH


At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
2445Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot
With all his convent honorably received him;
To whom he gave these words: “O Father Abbot,
25An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among you.
2450Give him a little earth, for charity.”
So went to bed, where eagerly his sickness
Pursued him still; and three nights after this,
30About the hour of eight, which he himself
Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
2455Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
He gave his honors to the world again,
His blessèd part to heaven, and slept in peace.

KATHERINE


35So may he rest. His faults lie gently on him!
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
2460And yet with charity. He was a man
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
Himself with princes; one that by suggestion
40Tied all the kingdom. Simony was fair play.
His own opinion was his law. I’ th’ presence
2465He would say untruths, and be ever double
Both in his words and meaning. He was never,
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful.
45His promises were, as he then was, mighty,
But his performance, as he is now, nothing.
2470Of his own body he was ill, and gave
The clergy ill example.

GRIFFITH

Noble madam,
50Men’s evil manners live in brass; their virtues
We write in water. May it please your Highness
2475To hear me speak his good now?

KATHERINE

Yes, good Griffith;
I were malicious else.

GRIFFITH

55This cardinal,
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
2480Was fashioned to much honor. From his cradle
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one:
Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading;
60Lofty and sour to them that loved him not,
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
2485And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam,
He was most princely. Ever witness for him
65Those twins of learning that he raised in you,
Ipswich and Oxford, one of which fell with him,
2490Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous,
So excellent in art, and still so rising,
70That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heaped happiness upon him,
2495For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little.
And, to add greater honors to his age
75Than man could give him, he died fearing God.

KATHERINE


After my death I wish no other herald,
2500No other speaker of my living actions,
To keep mine honor from corruption
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
80Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
With thy religious truth and modesty,
2505Now in his ashes honor. Peace be with him!—
Patience, be near me still, and set me lower.
I have not long to trouble thee.—Good Griffith,
85Cause the musicians play me that sad note
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
2510On that celestial harmony I go to.

Sad and solemn music.

GRIFFITH


She is asleep. Good wench, let’s sit down quiet,
For fear we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience.

They sit.

Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six
Personages clad in white robes, wearing on their
heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their
faces, branches of bays or palm in their hands. They
first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain
changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her
head, at which the other four make reverent curtsies.
Then the two that held the garland deliver the same
to the other next two, who observe the same order in
their changes and holding the garland over her head;
which done, they deliver the same garland to the last
two, who likewise observe the same order. At which,
as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep
signs of rejoicing and holdeth up her hands to
heaven; and so, in their dancing, vanish, carrying
the garland with them.The music continues.

KATHERINE , waking


90Spirits of peace, where are you? Are you all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind you?

GRIFFITH


2515Madam, we are here.

KATHERINE

It is not you I call for.
Saw you none enter since I slept?

GRIFFITH

95None, madam.

KATHERINE


No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
2520Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness
100And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear. I shall, assuredly.

GRIFFITH


2525I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
Possess your fancy.

KATHERINE

Bid the music leave.
105They are harsh and heavy to me.

Music ceases.

PATIENCE , aside to Griffith

Do you note
2530How much her Grace is altered on the sudden?
How long her face is drawn? How pale she looks,
And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes.

GRIFFITH , aside to Patience


110She is going, wench. Pray, pray.

PATIENCE

Heaven comfort her!

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER , to Katherine


2535An ’t like your Grace—

KATHERINE

You are a saucy fellow.
Deserve we no more reverence?

GRIFFITH , to Messenger

115You are to blame,
Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
2540To use so rude behavior. Go to. Kneel.

MESSENGER , kneeling


I humbly do entreat your Highness’ pardon.
My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
120A gentleman sent from the King to see you.

KATHERINE


Admit him entrance, Griffith.Messenger rises.
2545But this fellow
Let me ne’er see again.Messenger exits.

Enter Lord Capuchius.

If my sight fail not,
125You should be Lord Ambassador from the Emperor,
My royal nephew, and your name Capuchius.

CAPUCHIUS


2550Madam, the same. Your servant.

KATHERINE

O my lord,
The times and titles now are altered strangely
130With me since first you knew me. But I pray you,
What is your pleasure with me?

CAPUCHIUS

2555Noble lady,
First, mine own service to your Grace; the next,
The King’s request that I would visit you,
135Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
Sends you his princely commendations,
2560And heartily entreats you take good comfort.

KATHERINE


O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
’Tis like a pardon after execution.
140That gentle physic given in time had cured me.
But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
2565How does his Highness?

CAPUCHIUS

Madam, in good health.

KATHERINE


So may he ever do, and ever flourish,
145When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
Banished the kingdom.—Patience, is that letter
2570I caused you write yet sent away?

PATIENCE

No, madam.

She presents a paper to Katherine, who gives
it to Capuchius.

KATHERINE


Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
150This to my lord the King—

CAPUCHIUS

Most willing, madam.

KATHERINE


2575In which I have commended to his goodness
The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter—
The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!—
155Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding—
She is young and of a noble, modest nature;
2580I hope she will deserve well—and a little
To love her for her mother’s sake that loved him,
Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
160Is that his noble Grace would have some pity
Upon my wretched women, that so long
2585Have followed both my fortunes faithfully,
Of which there is not one, I dare avow—
And now I should not lie—but will deserve,
165For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
For honesty and decent carriage,
2590A right good husband. Let him be a noble;
And sure those men are happy that shall have ’em.
The last is for my men—they are the poorest,
170But poverty could never draw ’em from me—
That they may have their wages duly paid ’em,
2595And something over to remember me by.
If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life
And able means, we had not parted thus.
175These are the whole contents. And, good my lord,
By that you love the dearest in this world,
2600As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
Stand these poor people’s friend, and urge the King
To do me this last right.

CAPUCHIUS

180By heaven, I will,
Or let me lose the fashion of a man!

KATHERINE


2605I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
In all humility unto his Highness.
Say his long trouble now is passing
185Out of this world. Tell him in death I blessed him,
For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
2610My lord.—Griffith, farewell.—Nay, Patience,
You must not leave me yet. I must to bed;
Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
190Let me be used with honor. Strew me over
With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
2615I was a chaste wife to my grave. Embalm me,
Then lay me forth. Although unqueened, yet like
A queen and daughter to a king inter me.
195I can no more.

They exit, leading Katherine.

ACT 5

Scene 1

Enter Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a
torch before him, met by Sir Thomas Lovell.

GARDINER


It’s one o’clock, boy, is ’t not?

PAGE

2620It hath struck.

GARDINER


These should be hours for necessities,
Not for delights; times to repair our nature
5With comforting repose, and not for us
To waste these times.—Good hour of night, Sir
2625Thomas.
Whither so late?

LOVELL

Came you from the King, my lord?

GARDINER


10I did, Sir Thomas, and left him at primero
With the Duke of Suffolk.

LOVELL

2630I must to him too,
Before he go to bed. I’ll take my leave.

GARDINER


Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What’s the matter?
15It seems you are in haste. An if there be
No great offense belongs to ’t, give your friend
2635Some touch of your late business. Affairs that walk,
As they say spirits do, at midnight have
In them a wilder nature than the business
20That seeks dispatch by day.

LOVELL

My lord, I love you,
2640And durst commend a secret to your ear
Much weightier than this work. The Queen’s in
labor—
25They say in great extremity—and feared
She’ll with the labor end.

GARDINER

2645The fruit she goes with
I pray for heartily, that it may find
Good time and live; but for the stock, Sir Thomas,
30I wish it grubbed up now.

LOVELL

Methinks I could
2650Cry the amen, and yet my conscience says
She’s a good creature and, sweet lady, does
Deserve our better wishes.

GARDINER

35But, sir, sir,
Hear me, Sir Thomas. You’re a gentleman
2655Of mine own way. I know you wise, religious;
And let me tell you, it will ne’er be well,
’Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take ’t of me,
40Till Cranmer, Cromwell—her two hands—and she
Sleep in their graves.

LOVELL

2660Now, sir, you speak of two
The most remarked i’ th’ kingdom. As for Cromwell,
Besides that of the Jewel House, is made Master
45O’ th’ Rolls and the King’s secretary; further, sir,
Stands in the gap and trade of more preferments,
2665With which the time will load him. Th’ Archbishop
Is the King’s hand and tongue, and who dare speak
One syllable against him?

GARDINER

50Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
There are that dare, and I myself have ventured
2670To speak my mind of him. And indeed this day,
Sir—I may tell it you, I think—I have
Incensed the lords o’ th’ Council that he is—
55For so I know he is, they know he is—
A most arch heretic, a pestilence
2675That does infect the land; with which they, moved,
Have broken with the King, who hath so far
Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace
60And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs
Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded
2680Tomorrow morning to the Council board
He be convented. He’s a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
And we must root him out. From your affairs
65I hinder you too long. Goodnight, Sir Thomas.

LOVELL


Many good nights, my lord. I rest your servant.

Gardiner and Page exit.Enter King and Suffolk.

KING


2685Charles, I will play no more tonight.
My mind’s not on ’t; you are too hard for me.

SUFFOLK


Sir, I did never win of you before.

KING

70But little, Charles,
Nor shall not when my fancy’s on my play.—
2690Now, Lovell, from the Queen what is the news?

LOVELL


I could not personally deliver to her
What you commanded me, but by her woman
75I sent your message, who returned her thanks
In the great’st humbleness, and desired your Highness
2695Most heartily to pray for her.

KING

What sayst thou, ha?
To pray for her? What, is she crying out?

LOVELL


80So said her woman, and that her suff’rance made
Almost each pang a death.

KING

2700Alas, good lady!

SUFFOLK


God safely quit her of her burden, and
With gentle travail, to the gladding of
85Your Highness with an heir!

KING

’Tis midnight, Charles.
2705Prithee, to bed, and in thy prayers remember
Th’ estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone,
For I must think of that which company
90Would not be friendly to.

SUFFOLK

I wish your Highness
2710A quiet night, and my good mistress will
Remember in my prayers.

KING

Charles, good night.
Suffolk exits.

Enter Sir Anthony Denny.

95Well, sir, what follows?

DENNY


Sir, I have brought my lord the Archbishop,
2715As you commanded me.

KING

Ha! Canterbury?

DENNY


Ay, my good lord.

KING

100’Tis true. Where is he, Denny?

DENNY


He attends your Highness’ pleasure.

KING

2720Bring him to us.

Denny exits.

LOVELL , aside


This is about that which the Bishop spake.
I am happily come hither.

Enter Cranmer and Denny.

KING


105Avoid the gallery.Lovell seems to stay.
Ha! I have said. Be gone!
2725What!

Lovell and Denny exit.

CRANMER , aside

I am fearful. Wherefore frowns he thus?
’Tis his aspect of terror. All’s not well.

KING


110How now, my lord? You do desire to know
Wherefore I sent for you.

CRANMER , kneeling

2730It is my duty
T’ attend your Highness’ pleasure.

KING

Pray you arise,
115My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.
Come, you and I must walk a turn together.
2735I have news to tell you. Come, come, give me your
hand.Cranmer rises.
Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
120And am right sorry to repeat what follows.
I have, and most unwillingly, of late
2740Heard many grievous—I do say, my lord,
Grievous—complaints of you, which, being
considered,
125Have moved us and our Council that you shall
This morning come before us, where I know
2745You cannot with such freedom purge yourself
But that, till further trial in those charges
Which will require your answer, you must take
130Your patience to you and be well contented
To make your house our Tower. You a brother of us,
2750It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
Would come against you.

CRANMER , kneeling

I humbly thank your
135Highness,
And am right glad to catch this good occasion
2755Most throughly to be winnowed, where my chaff
And corn shall fly asunder. For I know
There’s none stands under more calumnious tongues
140Than I myself, poor man.

KING

Stand up, good Canterbury!
2760Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand. Stand up.
Cranmer rises.
Prithee, let’s walk. Now by my halidom,
145What manner of man are you? My lord, I looked
You would have given me your petition that
2765I should have ta’en some pains to bring together
Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you
Without endurance further.

CRANMER

150Most dread liege,
The good I stand on is my truth and honesty.
2770If they shall fail, I with mine enemies
Will triumph o’er my person, which I weigh not,
Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
155What can be said against me.

KING

Know you not
2775How your state stands i’ th’ world, with the whole
world?
Your enemies are many and not small; their practices
160Must bear the same proportion, and not ever
The justice and the truth o’ th’ question carries
2780The due o’ th’ verdict with it. At what ease
Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
To swear against you? Such things have been done.
165You are potently opposed, and with a malice
Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
2785I mean in perjured witness, than your master,
Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived
Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to.
170You take a precipice for no leap of danger
And woo your own destruction.

CRANMER

2790God and your Majesty
Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
The trap is laid for me.

KING

175Be of good cheer.
They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
2795Keep comfort to you, and this morning see
You do appear before them. If they shall chance,
In charging you with matters, to commit you,
180The best persuasions to the contrary
Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
2800Th’ occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties
Will render you no remedy, this ring
Deliver them, and your appeal to us
185There make before them.He gives Cranmer a ring.
Aside.Look, the good man weeps!
2805He’s honest, on mine honor! God’s blest mother,
I swear he is truehearted, and a soul
None better in my kingdom.—Get you gone,
190And do as I have bid you.Cranmer exits.
He has strangled
2810His language in his tears.

LOVELL (within)

Come back! What mean you?

Enter Old Lady, followed by Lovell.

OLD LADY


I’ll not come back! The tidings that I bring
195Will make my boldness manners.—Now, good angels
Fly o’er thy royal head and shade thy person
2815Under their blessèd wings!

KING

Now by thy looks
I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered?
200Say “Ay, and of a boy.”

OLD LADY

Ay, ay, my liege,
2820And of a lovely boy. The God of heaven
Both now and ever bless her! ’Tis a girl
Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
205Desires your visitation, and to be
Acquainted with this stranger. ’Tis as like you
2825As cherry is to cherry.

KING

Lovell.

LOVELL

Sir.

KING


210Give her an hundred marks. I’ll to the Queen.

King exits.

OLD LADY


An hundred marks? By this light, I’ll ha’ more.
2830An ordinary groom is for such payment.
I will have more or scold it out of him.
Said I for this the girl was like to him?
215I’ll have more or else unsay ’t. And now,
While ’tis hot, I’ll put it to the issue.

Old Lady exits, with Lovell.

Scene 2

Enter Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. (Pages,
Footboys, Grooms, and other servants attend at the
Council door.)

CRANMER


2835I hope I am not too late, and yet the gentleman
That was sent to me from the Council prayed me
To make great haste.He tries the door.
All fast? What means this? Ho!
5Who waits there?

Enter Keeper.

2840Sure you know me!

KEEPER

Yes, my lord,
But yet I cannot help you.

CRANMER

Why?

KEEPER


10Your Grace must wait till you be called for.

CRANMER

2845So.

Enter Doctor Butts.

BUTTS , aside


This is a piece of malice. I am glad
I came this way so happily. The King
Shall understand it presently.

Butts exits.

CRANMER , aside

15’Tis Butts,
2850The King’s physician. As he passed along
How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace. For certain
This is of purpose laid by some that hate me—
20God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice—
2855To quench mine honor. They would shame to make me
Wait else at door, a fellow councillor,
’Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience.

Enter the King and Butts at a window above.

BUTTS


25I’ll show your Grace the strangest sight.

KING

2860What’s that,
Butts?

BUTTS


I think your Highness saw this many a day.

KING


Body o’ me, where is it?

BUTTS

30There, my lord:
2865The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury,
Who holds his state at door, ’mongst pursuivants,
Pages, and footboys.

KING

Ha! ’Tis he indeed.
35Is this the honor they do one another?
2870’Tis well there’s one above ’em yet. I had thought
They had parted so much honesty among ’em—
At least good manners—as not thus to suffer
A man of his place, and so near our favor,
40To dance attendance on their Lordships’ pleasures,
2875And at the door, too, like a post with packets.
By holy Mary, Butts, there’s knavery!
Let ’em alone, and draw the curtain close.
We shall hear more anon.

They draw the curtain.A council table brought in with chairs and stools and
placed under the state. Enter Lord Chancellor, places
himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand, a
seat being left void above him, as for Canterbury’s seat.
Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord
Chamberlain, Gardiner seat themselves in order on each
side, Cromwell at lower end as secretary.

CHANCELLOR


45Speak to the business, Master Secretary.
2880Why are we met in council?

CROMWELL

Please your honors,
The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury.

GARDINER


Has he had knowledge of it?

CROMWELL

50Yes.

NORFOLK , to Keeper

2885Who waits there?

KEEPER


Without, my noble lords?

GARDINER

Yes.

KEEPER

My lord Archbishop,
55And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.

CHANCELLOR


2890Let him come in.

KEEPER , at door

Your Grace may enter now.

Cranmer approaches the council table.

CHANCELLOR


My good lord Archbishop, I’m very sorry
To sit here at this present and behold
60That chair stand empty. But we all are men,
2895In our own natures frail, and capable
Of our flesh—few are angels—out of which frailty
And want of wisdom you, that best should teach us,
Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little,
65Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling
2900The whole realm, by your teaching and your
chaplains’—
For so we are informed—with new opinions,
Divers and dangerous, which are heresies
70And, not reformed, may prove pernicious.

GARDINER


2905Which reformation must be sudden too,
My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses
Pace ’em not in their hands to make ’em gentle,
But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur ’em
75Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
2910Out of our easiness and childish pity
To one man’s honor, this contagious sickness,
Farewell, all physic. And what follows then?
Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
80Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbors,
2915The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
Yet freshly pitied in our memories.

CRANMER


My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
Both of my life and office, I have labored,
85And with no little study, that my teaching
2920And the strong course of my authority
Might go one way and safely; and the end
Was ever to do well. Nor is there living—
I speak it with a single heart, my lords—
90A man that more detests, more stirs against,
2925Both in his private conscience and his place,
Defacers of a public peace than I do.
Pray heaven the King may never find a heart
With less allegiance in it! Men that make
95Envy and crookèd malice nourishment
2930Dare bite the best. I do beseech your Lordships
That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
Be what they will, may stand forth face to face
And freely urge against me.

SUFFOLK

100Nay, my lord,
2935That cannot be. You are a councillor,
And by that virtue no man dare accuse you.

GARDINER


My lord, because we have business of more moment,
We will be short with you. ’Tis his Highness’ pleasure,
105And our consent, for better trial of you
2940From hence you be committed to the Tower,
Where, being but a private man again,
You shall know many dare accuse you boldly—
More than, I fear, you are provided for.

CRANMER


110Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you.
2945You are always my good friend. If your will pass,
I shall both find your Lordship judge and juror,
You are so merciful. I see your end:
’Tis my undoing. Love and meekness, lord,
115Become a churchman better than ambition.
2950Win straying souls with modesty again;
Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
Lay all the weight you can upon my patience,
I make as little doubt as you do conscience
120In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
2955But reverence to your calling makes me modest.

GARDINER


My lord, my lord, you are a sectary.
That’s the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers,
To men that understand you, words and weakness.

CROMWELL


125My Lord of Winchester, you’re a little,
2960By your good favor, too sharp. Men so noble,
However faulty, yet should find respect
For what they have been. ’Tis a cruelty
To load a falling man.

GARDINER

130Good Master Secretary—
2965I cry your Honor mercy—you may worst
Of all this table say so.

CROMWELL

Why, my lord?

GARDINER


Do not I know you for a favorer
135Of this new sect? You are not sound.

CROMWELL

2970Not sound?

GARDINER


Not sound, I say.

CROMWELL

Would you were half so honest!
Men’s prayers then would seek you, not their fears.

GARDINER


140I shall remember this bold language.

CROMWELL

2975Do.
Remember your bold life too.

CHANCELLOR

This is too much!
Forbear, for shame, my lords.

GARDINER

145I have done.

CROMWELL

2980And I.

CHANCELLOR , to Cranmer


Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
You be conveyed to th’ Tower a prisoner,
150There to remain till the King’s further pleasure
2985Be known unto us.—Are you all agreed, lords?

ALL


We are.

CRANMER

Is there no other way of mercy
But I must needs to th’ Tower, my lords?

GARDINER

155What other
2990Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome.
Let some o’ th’ guard be ready there.

Enter the Guard.

CRANMER

For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?

GARDINER

160Receive him,
2995And see him safe i’ th’ Tower.

CRANMER

Stay, good my lords,
I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords.
He holds out the ring.
By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
165Out of the grips of cruel men and give it
3000To a most noble judge, the King my master.

CHAMBERLAIN


This is the King’s ring.

SURREY

’Tis no counterfeit.

SUFFOLK


’Tis the right ring, by heaven! I told you all,
170When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
3005’Twould fall upon ourselves.

NORFOLK

Do you think, my lords,
The King will suffer but the little finger
Of this man to be vexed?

CHAMBERLAIN

175’Tis now too certain.
3010How much more is his life in value with him!
Would I were fairly out on ’t!

CROMWELL

My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
180Against this man, whose honesty the devil
3015And his disciples only envy at,
You blew the fire that burns you. Now, have at you!

Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat.

GARDINER


Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince,
185Not only good and wise, but most religious;
3020One that in all obedience makes the Church
The chief aim of his honor, and to strengthen
That holy duty out of dear respect,
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
190The cause betwixt her and this great offender.

KING


3025You were ever good at sudden commendations,
Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not
To hear such flattery now, and in my presence
They are too thin and base to hide offenses.
195To me you cannot reach. You play the spaniel,
3030And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
But whatsoe’er thou tak’st me for, I’m sure
Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.—
Good man, sit down.Cranmer takes his seat.
200Now let me see the proudest
3035He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee.
By all that’s holy, he had better starve
Than but once think this place becomes thee not.

SURREY


May it please your Grace—

KING

205No, sir, it does not please
3040me.
I had thought I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom of my Council, but I find none.
Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
210This good man—few of you deserve that title—
3045This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
At chamber door? And one as great as you are?
Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission
Bid you so far forget yourselves? I gave you
215Power as he was a councillor to try him,
3050Not as a groom. There’s some of you, I see,
More out of malice than integrity,
Would try him to the utmost, had you mean,
Which you shall never have while I live.

CHANCELLOR

220Thus far,
3055My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace
To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed
Concerning his imprisonment was rather,
If there be faith in men, meant for his trial
225And fair purgation to the world than malice,
3060I’m sure, in me.

KING

Well, well, my lords, respect him.
Take him, and use him well; he’s worthy of it.
I will say thus much for him: if a prince
230May be beholding to a subject, I
3065Am, for his love and service, so to him.
Make me no more ado, but all embrace him.
Be friends, for shame, my lords.
They embrace Cranmer.
My Lord of Canterbury,
235I have a suit which you must not deny me:
3070That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism.
You must be godfather and answer for her.

CRANMER


The greatest monarch now alive may glory
In such an honor. How may I deserve it,
240That am a poor and humble subject to you?

KING

3075Come, come, my lord, you’d spare your spoons.
You shall have two noble partners with you: the
old Duchess of Norfolk and Lady Marquess Dorset.
Will these please you?—
245Once more, my lord of Winchester, I charge you,
3080Embrace and love this man.

GARDINER

With a true heart
And brother-love I do it.

He embraces Cranmer.

CRANMER , weeping

And let heaven
250Witness how dear I hold this confirmation.

KING


3085Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart.
The common voice, I see, is verified
Of thee, which says thus: “Do my Lord of Canterbury
A shrewd turn, and he’s your friend forever.”—
255Come, lords, we trifle time away. I long
3090To have this young one made a Christian.
As I have made you one, lords, one remain.
So I grow stronger, you more honor gain.

They exit.

Scene 3

Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man,
carrying cudgels.

PORTER

You’ll leave your noise anon, you rascals! Do
you take the court for Parish Garden? You rude
3095slaves, leave your gaping!

ONE , (within)

Good Master Porter, I belong to th’
5larder.

PORTER

Belong to th’ gallows and be hanged, you rogue!
Is this a place to roar in?—Fetch me a dozen crab-tree
3100staves, and strong ones. These are but switches
to ’em.—I’ll scratch your heads! You must be seeing
10christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here,
you rude rascals?

PORTER’S MAN


Pray, sir, be patient. ’Tis as much impossible—
3105Unless we sweep ’em from the door with cannons—
To scatter ’em as ’tis to make ’em sleep
15On May Day morning, which will never be.
We may as well push against Paul’s as stir ’em.

PORTER

How got they in, and be hanged?

PORTER’S MAN


3110Alas, I know not. How gets the tide in?
As much as one sound cudgel of four foot—
20You see the poor remainder—could distribute,
I made no spare, sir.

PORTER

You did nothing, sir.

PORTER’S MAN


3115I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
To mow ’em down before me; but if I spared any
25That had a head to hit, either young or old,
He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
Let me ne’er hope to see a chine again—
3120And that I would not for a cow, God save her!

ONE , (within)

Do you hear, Master Porter?

PORTER

30I shall be with you presently, good master
puppy.— Keep the door close, sirrah.

PORTER’S MAN

What would you have me do?

PORTER

3125What should you do but knock ’em down by
th’ dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have
35we some strange Indian with the great tool come to
court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a
fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience,
3130this one christening will beget a thousand;
here will be father, godfather, and all together.

PORTER’S MAN

40The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is
a fellow somewhat near the door—he should be a
brazier by his face, for, o’ my conscience, twenty of
3135the dog days now reign in ’s nose. All that stand
about him are under the line; they need no other
45penance. That fire-drake did I hit three times on the
head, and three times was his nose discharged
against me. He stands there like a mortar-piece, to
3140blow us. There was a haberdasher’s wife of small
wit near him that railed upon me till her pinked
50porringer fell off her head for kindling such a
combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once
and hit that woman, who cried out “Clubs!” when I
3145might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to
her succor, which were the hope o’ th’ Strand, where
55she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my
place. At length they came to th’ broomstaff to me;
I defied ’em still, when suddenly a file of boys behind
3150’em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of
pibbles that I was fain to draw mine honor in and
60let ’em win the work. The devil was amongst ’em, I
think, surely.

PORTER

These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse
3155and fight for bitten apples, that no audience
but the tribulation of Tower Hill or the limbs of
65Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to
endure. I have some of ’em in Limbo Patrum, and
there they are like to dance these three days, besides
3160the running banquet of two beadles that is to come.

Enter Lord Chamberlain.

CHAMBERLAIN


Mercy o’ me, what a multitude are here!
70They grow still too. From all parts they are coming,
As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
These lazy knaves?—You’ve made a fine hand, fellows!
3165There’s a trim rabble let in. Are all these
Your faithful friends o’ th’ suburbs? We shall have
75Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
When they pass back from the christening!

PORTER

An ’t please
3170your Honor,
We are but men, and what so many may do,
80Not being torn a-pieces, we have done.
An army cannot rule ’em.

CHAMBERLAIN

As I live,
3175If the King blame me for ’t, I’ll lay you all
By th’ heels, and suddenly, and on your heads
85Clap round fines for neglect. You’re lazy knaves,
And here you lie baiting of bombards, when
You should do service.Trumpets.
3180Hark, the trumpets sound!
They’re come already from the christening.
90Go break among the press, and find a way out
To let the troop pass fairly, or I’ll find
A Marshalsea shall hold you play these two months.

PORTER


3185Make way there for the Princess!

PORTER’S MAN

You great fellow,
95Stand close up, or I’ll make your head ache.

PORTER


You i’ th’ camlet, get up o’ th’ rail!
I’ll peck you o’er the pales else.

They exit.

Scene 4

Enter Trumpets, sounding. Then two Aldermen, Lord
Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his
marshal’s staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing
great standing bowls for the christening gifts; then four
Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess
of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited
in a mantle, etc., train borne by a Lady. Then follows the
Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies.
The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks.

GARTER

3190Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send
prosperous life, long, and ever happy, to the high
and mighty princess of England, Elizabeth.

Flourish. Enter King and Guard.

CRANMER , kneeling


And to your royal Grace and the good queen,
5My noble partners and myself thus pray
3195All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady
Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy
May hourly fall upon you!

KING

Thank you, good lord
10Archbishop.
3200What is her name?

CRANMER

Elizabeth.

KING

Stand up, lord.
Cranmer stands.
With this kiss take my blessing.King kisses infant.
15God protect thee,
3205Into whose hand I give thy life.

CRANMER

Amen.

KING , to the two godmothers


My noble gossips, you’ve been too prodigal.
I thank you heartily; so shall this lady
20When she has so much English.

CRANMER

3210Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they’ll find ’em truth.
This royal infant—heaven still move about her!—
25Though in her cradle, yet now promises
3215Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be—
But few now living can behold that goodness—
A pattern to all princes living with her
30And all that shall succeed. Saba was never
3220More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces
That mold up such a mighty piece as this is,
With all the virtues that attend the good,
35Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her;
3225Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her.
She shall be loved and feared. Her own shall bless her;
Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn
And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with
40her.
3230In her days every man shall eat in safety
Under his own vine what he plants and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbors.
God shall be truly known, and those about her
45From her shall read the perfect ways of honor
3235And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but, as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir
50As great in admiration as herself,
3240So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,
Who from the sacred ashes of her honor
Shall starlike rise as great in fame as she was
55And so stand fixed. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
3245That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him.
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honor and the greatness of his name
60Shall be, and make new nations. He shall flourish,
3250And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
To all the plains about him. Our children’s children
Shall see this and bless heaven.

KING

Thou speakest wonders.

CRANMER


65She shall be to the happiness of England
3255An agèd princess; many days shall see her,
And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
Would I had known no more! But she must die,
She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin,
70A most unspotted lily, shall she pass
3260To th’ ground, and all the world shall mourn her.

KING

O lord
Archbishop,
Thou hast made me now a man. Never before
75This happy child did I get anything.
3265This oracle of comfort has so pleased me
That when I am in heaven I shall desire
To see what this child does and praise my Maker.—
I thank you all.—To you, my good lord mayor
80And you, good brethren, I am much beholding.
3270I have received much honor by your presence,
And you shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords.
You must all see the Queen, and she must thank you;
She will be sick else. This day, no man think
85’Has business at his house, for all shall stay.
3275This little one shall make it holiday.

They exit.

Epilogue

Enter Epilogue.

EPILOGUE


’Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here. Some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two—but those, we fear,
We’ve frighted with our trumpets; so, ’tis clear,
53280They’ll say ’tis naught—others, to hear the city
Abused extremely and to cry “That’s witty!”—
Which we have not done neither—that I fear
All the expected good we’re like to hear
For this play at this time is only in
103285The merciful construction of good women,
For such a one we showed ’em. If they smile
And say ’twill do, I know within a while
All the best men are ours; for ’tis ill hap
If they hold when their ladies bid ’em clap.

He exits.